


Search Results

by Tevokkia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Cameo by Angela Zeigler, Cameo by Gabriel Reyes, Cameo by Jack Morrison, Christmas Special, Fanfic Writer Mccree, Fareeha is getting there, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friends to Lovers, Genji is a gremlin, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Prom, Unrepentant Fluff, obnoxious younger siblings, ride-or-die siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 85,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tevokkia/pseuds/Tevokkia
Summary: Hanzo Shimada has run out of things to read and sets himself to browsing for recently-finished works. One story by "HighNoon" stands out, and he supposes the writing for the first few paragraphs is good enough to overlook that it's a Western AU.Jesse McCree had just posted the last chapter of his current fic last night, and today there are a bunch of comments that could practically be chapters themselves. DoubleDragon turns out to be every writer's wet dream, and the comments section of his works are soon looking like a bunch of chat threads.But what happens when HighNoon doesn't have anything left for DoubleDragon to read?------From comment threads to internet chatting and beyond, these two learn to lean on each other through trials with school, family, personal demons, and navigating the ins-and-outs of first time relationships.





	1. HighNoon & DoubleDragon

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been, and still is, a labor of love: I've been working on it for over a year, and while it's nowhere near finished, I just can't wait to begin sharing it.
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> Also, find me at [Tumblr](http://tevokkia.tumblr.com)!

It was over. Done with. There was no more.

Hanzo Shimada had hit 'send' on his wall-of-text comment about 15 minutes ago, and was now frowning at his computer screen. He hated when a story was over, especially a good one, and most especially when there wasn't anything else to read by that particular fanfic author.

This story had been the last of three, all for different pairings in the same fandom and all long enough to have been a good two inches thick had they been published in hardcover. Hanzo admired writers who could devote that much time and effort to something: he also understood the drive, knowing firsthand how motivating praise and attention could be.

Now, though, Hanzo had to find another author to start reading. None of his favorites had finished anything in awhile, and he just couldn't stand the waiting that came with WIPs. He was also terribly picky: shorts and drabbles held no interest, since he wasn't particularly invested in any specific fandom or ship, and his inner perfectionist screamed distractingly when he tried to read anything that was clearly written quickly and posted sans edits, no matter how good the plot or how well the characters were written.

So, cheek resting on his hand and the ceiling fan rotating lazily above him in the warm summer air, Hanzo browsed. It was always a process, opening up likely-looking stories in new tabs based on their summaries, saving unfinished ones to check on later, and reading a few paragraphs of each to see what the writing style was like. One stood out of the first batch, finished late last night at a little over 150k words. It was even about characters from a game Hanzo had actually played, featuring his favorite protagonist to use and the man he chose to romance on every playthrough. The only real downside was that it was a Western AU, which wasn’t generally something he read, but he was willing to try it out.

\---

Well before the time the fic had earned its explicit rating in Chapter 18, Hanzo was thoroughly invested in the story and characters, leaning forward while reading as though it would allow him to see more of what was going on. The scene was just transitioning from steamy to outright smut when Hanzo's door flew open without warning and his younger brother Genji bounded in. Hanzo hurriedly clicked to another tab - he had no idea what, probably Wikipedia or something - and whirled around in his chair to face his brother, cheeks burning.

"Can you not knock?" he hissed, both embarrassed to have maybe been caught, and appalled to notice that The Hair was back. Their parents allowed Genji to dye it as long as school was not in session, and he always chose the same atrocious shade of lime.

"Whoa," Genji answered, holding his hands in front of him defensively and taking a step back. "I'm just passing on that Mom and Dad are going out, so we're on our own for dinner." He offered half a grin. "Wanna order pizza?"

Hanzo heaved a sigh and slumped back in his chair. "Fine, I'll order pizza." He reached for his phone. "What do you want on it?"

"Anything but pineapple. Or anchovies," Genji answered, flopping unceremoniously onto his older brother's bed. Hanzo looked unimpressed. "Or tomatoes."

"I'm ordering pineapple on mine. And tomatoes. And maybe anchovies, just because."

"Then I want my own pizza," Genji countered.

"Then what do you want on it?" Hanzo asked as he rolled his eyes, exasperated. “And are you using your card or do expect me to pay for both?”

Genji stuck his tongue out. “Your card has a higher limit than mine.”

“That’s because I’m older.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Genji whined, trying to make his eyes as big and sad as possible while Hanzo glared at him. “Pleeeeeeeeeeease?”

“Ugh, fine.” Hanzo huffed at the grin on his brother’s face. It wasn’t as if he had actually planned on making Genji split the bill with him. “Now what do you want on it?”

After some more bickering, Hanzo finally managed to place an order for two pizzas - Genji had settled on double pepperoni with jalapeños, while Hanzo had substituted chicken for the anchovies on his Little Brother Proof pizza - to be delivered. He looked at his brother expectantly: the pizza was ordered and his duty was done, but Genji remained sitting cross-legged on his bed, elbows on his knees.

"So, whatcha’ up to?" asked the green-haired gremlin, trying to look innocent.

"Ordering pizza?"

"No, before that! You've been up here since you got back from the gym!"

"Studying," Hanzo answered immediately, completely deadpan.

It was Genji's turn to look unimpressed. "Liar. You didn’t even do summer term."

"Reading," Hanzo amended, hoping his brother would go away without prying further. Genji narrowed his eyes as he shot a keen look over Hanzo’s shoulder at his monitor, unfolded himself, and stood.

"I'mma just go down stairs and watch Netflix and wait for the pizza guy, then." Genji somehow managed to keep his gaze on Hanzo, eyebrows raised, while walking backward out of the room, never breaking eye contact as he slowly closed the door. Except for the last inch, which he slammed.

"Why must you be so weird?" Hanzo muttered and turned back to his computer, hoping to finish the chapter he was on before the pizza arrived. He groaned when he saw that tab he had hurriedly switched to had been his initial search for finished fanfics with M/M pairings, and that every result currently on screen had been rated as explicit.

\-------

Jesse McCree stepped out back on his lunch break and pulled out his phone, sweat already beading on his forehead in the heat of the Santa Fe summer. Normally he'd take his lunch in the break room where it was probably fifty degrees cooler, but he had posted the last chapter of the fic he had been working on before going to sleep the night before and had been running too late that morning to check for any comments. He couldn't wait until he got home to take a peek, but there was no way he was going to let any of his coworkers see the faces or hear the noises he made when he read anything his readers had to say.

He grinned around his straw as he saw the number of notifications for Chapter 27, his eyes squeezing shut as he did a shuffling little dance in response to one, and laughing aloud at another. There wouldn't be time to read them all now, let alone reply, but just getting a look at some of them while he had his sandwich would make the rest of the day at the feed store that much brighter.

Scrolling through, Jesse's eyes widened in surprise-- interspersed between the comments for the current chapter (most of them some variation of "Great chapter!" or "I'm so sad it's over!") was a string of others for chapters 1 through 12. Having a few comments pop up for earlier chapters wasn't unusual at all, but these were all from the same person, and not a single one was less than three paragraphs long. Chapter 7 had apparently warranted so much commentary that the person, DoubleDragon, had run out of room and had to leave a second comment just to finish what they were saying. 

Aw, no, this was too much. Jesse thought he was going to die right then and there of excitement, but forced himself to put his phone away, pop a piece of gum in his mouth, and go to clock back in. He had another four hours until he could go home and give everything, especially the long commentary, a good read-over and some replies, and he'd have to be content with vibrating in happiness just thinking about it until then.

\-------

Finally finished with work, supper with his adoptive mother and sister, and doing the dishes, Jesse set down to the long-awaited task of reading all of the comments in order, and responding to every single one. Most of them were an easy "Thank you!" or "I'm glad you liked it!", while a few commenters asked about his next project (he had an outline ready for a story featuring a couple of supporting characters from a book he read last month), and a few others wanted to know whether he was going to write anything else for this ship (he didn't have any plans, but might visit a different ship in the fandom later if an idea struck him). This was one of his favorite parts of sharing his stories online, and he lost track of the times he had to stop reading to cover his face or scream into his pillow or catch his breath after laughing at a particularly clever comment. He loved his readers so much.

The long comments, Jesse saved for last. One: he wanted to savor them. Two: he liked to reply to longer comments in kind, and that always took some time. Three: they had multiplied since lunch break, and now included chapters 13 through 18. He let out a low whistle while reading the first one, running his fingers through his shaggy hair with a huge grin plastered on his face. DoubleDragon had pointed out a couple of departures from the character's in-game personalities, commented on his choice of a Western AU, and complimented his writing voice.

They were all like that. Chapter 3's comment mentioned a trope DoubleDragon thought he used particularly well (Red Oni/Blue Oni was one of Jesse's favorites), the essay they had left on Chapter 7 included commentary on some foreshadowing from Chapter 4 that no one else had mentioned, Chapter 16's had Things To Say about the sexual tension between the main characters, and the comment on Chapter 18 included the single most elegant method of saying the reader enjoyed a sex scene that Jesse had ever read. Jesse was probably bright red from the top of his head down after reading all of them, what with how much thought this person had put into actually giving feedback.

Jesse had to take a break before answering them all, wanting to think about them for a bit first. Chewing his lip, he headed downstairs in bare feet to get a drink, pausing to watch his sister playing a first-person shooter he hadn't tried once he had filled a glass with a little water and a lot of ice.

"You writing again?" Fareeha asked without even turning around, still shooting enemies with crazy accuracy. Jesse wondered absently when a 12 year-old got to be as good a shot as he used to be.

"Naw," he drawled as she finished the mission she was in and finally turned around. "I finished up th' one I was workin' on last night. Just respondin' to comments today before startin' up somethin' new."

"They must be good with how red you are." Fareeha lay back to look at him upside-down, black hair splayed out on the rug behind her. "Were you up there screaming into your pillow?"

Jesse snorted and snapped his gum. "Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't." He couldn't help grinning as he took a long drink, ice cubes bumping across his upper lip since he hadn’t bothered with his customary straw. “I could be red ‘cause it’s hot in here.”

Fareeha laughed. "That means you totally were," she taunted, sitting up and grabbing her controller again. Jesse chuckled with her, then headed back up the stairs to answer those comments.

There was a new one for Chapter 19.

\---

Hanzo toweled off his hair and then dropped onto his bed, thoroughly worn out. Genji had roped him into a yoga class before he headed off to the archery range that morning, which had admittedly been a good warm-up, and then he had had a lengthy session at the gym. He had made the ill-advised decision to go on a jog afterward, which he quickly aborted in favor of heading home for a shower -- heat stroke had not been on his to-do list for the day.

All he really wanted to do now was finish reading the story he had started yesterday, but he paused to check his email on his phone first in case there was anything important. Nothing from his school or any of the people he was expecting to hear from, but there were replies to all 19 of the comments he had left on the story the day before. Hanzo sat up, finding himself smiling as he went to read the first comment, then grinning as he saw that the author, HighNoon, had not only left a reply just as long as what he had originally wrote, but they had left things open for him to reply back.

Which is how Hanzo ended up spending nearly an hour replying to each of the replies that he himself had gotten before even getting to read the last eight chapters, and then spent another 40 minutes commenting on those when he had finished.

\---

Jesse didn't work Tuesday or Thursday, so after his morning run, saying goodbye to Ana as she headed out to drop Fareeha off at basketball camp and then go to her job at the clinic, cleaning up after breakfast, and mowing the lawn like he had totally promised to do on Sunday before he had gotten really distracted with finishing that last chapter, he had the day pretty much to himself. He exchanged a few texts with Gabe (who had been his caseworker before the Amaris had adopted him, and whom he had kept in touch even after the man had moved to Los Angeles), sent a message to Angie to see if she was free to hang out that weekend, and ended up vegging out in front of the TV while he had his lunch.

Having eaten, Jesse headed back upstairs and dropped onto his computer chair, intent on getting the next story started. His goal for the day was 3,000 words, which he was pretty confident he could manage considering how good an outline he had for the first chapter, even if he did have to resort to tapping out everything on the left side of the keyboard with a pencil. He mulled over the opening scene as he flicked on the fan next to his desk, sticking his face in front of it so that it ruffled his sweat-damp hair - Ana had the thermostat set to 83, but Jesse was pretty sure that the old thing never even managed to get the temperature as low as 90. Armed with his fan, a glass of ice water, and two new packets of Big Red in his desk drawer, Jesse set his writing music to play and got to work. 

\---

It was past 3:30 and approaching 4 when Jesse stopped, the strip of light from the one missing slat in the window blinds threatening to lower into his eyes. He cracked his back, then the knuckles of his right hand, and then kneaded at his left upper arm, stretching the shoulder on that side -- it was giving him troubles and probably always would. Jesse had reached both his word count goal and a place where he wanted some time to think about the next scene, so he popped a new piece of gum into his mouth, roused himself from his chair, and peeled his t-shirt from where it clung to his back. Turning to perch on the edge of his desk so that the fan was pointed at his sticky neck, Jesse pulled his phone from his pocket.

There was a text from Angie telling him that no, she had things to do this weekend but sorry and she'd catch him another time, which he had more or less expected; one from Ana reminding him that it was his turn to make dinner, and a slew of notifications for comments. It seemed that aside from those just getting to Chapter 27 and the handful that had just started to read the finished story, DoubleDragon had been very busy. Jesse waited to actually start going through them until he had gone downstairs to pull out some chicken to thaw for supper and returned to his room with a new glass of ice water.

Jesse was glad that he had checked before Ana and Fareeha came home, because if the latter had seen him rolling around on his bed the way he was while reading all of his feedback, he would never hear the end of it. As usual, he saved DoubleDragon’s comments for last. They were probably on summer break too: there was no way someone with classes or a job could possibly read and comment that much on a weekday otherwise. 

They could have a part time job like he did, Jesse supposed after a moment’s thought, or work weird hours. Or maybe they lived in Australia and liked to pull all-nighters. His curiosity now piqued, Jesse found himself wondering just what sort of person DoubleDragon actually was.

\-------

Hanzo was thoroughly impressed by how prolific HighNoon had been: they had seven stories on the site ranging back over nearly four years (oddly enough, there was a ten month gap between the last story and the one before it), almost all of them around the same length as the first one he had read. A few of the older ones were shorter, although he hadn’t gotten as far as reading those quite yet. No two were in the same fandom, but every single one was a Western AU with a M/M pairing - Hanzo had never expected to enjoy reading Westerns before, nor had he known that he considered cowboys hot, but here he was. 

At the moment, “here” happened to be leaning against the wall at All Saints, surrounded by shopping bags. Near the end of a long day out with Genji, who had insisted they both have new wardrobes to start school with and begged to be driven to every trendy clothing store in Seattle, Hanzo slipped his phone out of his pocket to surreptitiously check for replies from HighNoon. His gremlin brother was waiting at the register and would probably be a few minutes. 

Hanzo had barely started reading HighNoon’s newest addition to a thread they had started about the logistics of bar brawls when Genji bounded over, carrying yet another bag.

“I’m still on the fence about that one shirt, but maybe I’ll come back and get it if I don’t see anything I like better at … what are you grinning at?”

Hanzo’s head shot up, eyes wide as his brother craned his neck to see what was on his screen. “Nothing,” he answered quickly, jamming the phone back into his pocket and putting on his best scowl.

“Didn’t look like nothing.” Genji grinned with uncontained glee, and Hanzo felt his face starting to grow hot as his brother leaned in with a stage whisper. “Do you have a boyfriend or something? Oh my god, you do have a boyfriend.” 

It was futile to ignore him with the way he was hopping around like a sparrow, but Hanzo tried his level best, gathering up the shopping bags at his feet. How much did Genji buy? How much did Genji con him into buying? 

“Where did you get a boyfriend? When did this happen? Do you have a picture? I wanna seeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Genji’s voice was slowly getting louder and rising in pitch, and a few of the other customers had turned around to stare. Hanzo was grateful that his brother had switched to speaking Japanese to harass him, at the very least.

“Ugh, I do not have a boyfriend,” Hanzo huffed, stalking out of the store with Genji trailing behind. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure whether HighNoon was a girl or a guy. They seemed like they might be a guy, but most of the fanfic authors Hanzo had spoken to were girls, so chances seemed slim. “And if you don’t shut up, I’m not taking you to Momo’s.”

\-------

Jesse jogged up the two steps of the porch, his tank top drenched and the rest of him sticky with sweat. He would be glad when the weather turned a little cooler, but for now this was his life in the mornings: running in the July heat while the cicadas buzzed all around him and he tried to drown them out with classic rock.

He did a few cool-down stretches, letting his heart rate decrease slowly and finishing off his bottle of water. His hair was sticking to his neck and forehead, and he pulled out his earbuds before giving it a shake, little flecks of sweat spattering the brickwork. With a sigh and a last stretch of his back, Jesse pulled out his phone and wedged it into The Claw so that he could turn off the music app and see what his notifications looked like.

There were replies on a few different threads from DoubleDragon, and Jesse knew he was grinning like a fool as he shouldered the front door open to step into the house. It was only marginally cooler than outdoors.

“Your run was that good?”

Jesse’s head snapped up to see Ana leaning in the archway that led into the kitchen with a cup of coffee, dressed in her scrubs. She was smirking at him, but her eyes were soft. He ducked his head with a sideways, sheepish grin, and rubbed at the back of his neck with his good hand.

“Oh, y’know … jes’ been talkin’ to someone online a bit. S’nice to see it when they message me.” He cleared his throat, glad that he was already red from the heat so that Ana couldn’t see his cheeks burning.

“Talking, hmmmm?” Ana took a slow sip of her coffee and regarded him from behind her cup, right eyebrow raised. “So who is this someone?”

Jesse shrugged. “One of m’readers. Don’t know too much about ‘em. They’re pretty smart n’ funny n’ have a lotta’ interestin’ things t’say though, so we’ve been commentin’ back n’ forth.”

“I see,” Ana said. She finished her coffee and stepped back into the kitchen to rinse the cup before setting it in the drainer, then turned back to him with a motherly smile. “I am glad to see you making some more friends, even though they are online. You are a bit old to receive the internet safety talk, so just be smart.”

Jesse huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not givin’ out m’home address to random internet strangers.”

Ana chuckled and reached forward to ruffle Jesse’s sweat-drenched hair, thought better of it, and patted his less-sweaty cheek instead. “I am heading out in a few minutes. I do not want to keep you from your shower, so have a good day. There is still chicken salad in the refrigerator if you want to make a sandwich for work.”

“Thanks, Ana, you have a good day too.” Jesse gave a salute so as not to ruin Ana’s clean scrubs with a hug, then tramped upstairs toward the shower, her shout of “Fareeha! Five minutes!” following after him. 

\-------

> _^Read More_  
>  **HighNoon said:**  
>  What I’m mostly saying is that you’re not going to be limited to fists and feet in a barfight. Somebody is gonna pick up a chair or bust a beer bottle over someone’s head or whatever, and from what I’ve read that’s not something that most training programs prep for. I guess formal training could help, depending on what kind and how many people there were, but that’s no real guarantee. The best trained guy won’t necessarily win.
> 
> Back to the other thing: Chuck and Raleigh are pretty evenly matched and not trying to kill each other, so I actually considered amping up the sexual tension in that scene and having Chuck smash him against the wall and kiss him when I was first writing it. I couldn’t resist writing the quippy one-liners though and ended up going for more of a slow burn. XD I was pretty young when I wrote this one too, so I wasn’t even going to try a real sex scene.

> **DoubleDragon said:**  
>  Most formal training really is not meant to deal with multiple people. I’ve been training for years, but I know that all of my practice sparring would do little good in a bar fight. There are a lot of rules you have to follow while sparring and in competition that don’t apply outside of those situations, so a hobbyist or a competitive fighter would not be used to either employing or guarding against “illegal moves.” The use of a bar stool would most certainly be considered an illegal move. So I see where you’re coming from there.
> 
> Most of the time, a fighter’s head is too busy with the match - or in this case an actual fight - to really focus on sexual tension, but I am sure that against the right person it could happen: I will not lie and say that such things have never crossed my mind while sparring. And it does increase the drama in a scene, so it certainly has its place in fiction and I do enjoy reading it.

> **HighNoon said:**  
>  I wouldn’t mind seeing you spar someday - never actually seen it in real life. It might inspire some new scenes. (sorry so short, I’ve got to head to work. i’ll reply more later)

> **NeonCalavera said:**  
>  R u srsly flirting on a fic from 3 yrs ago?

Hanzo snorted into his tea at the breakfast table, almost splashing it onto his egg and rice. Genji, sitting across from him, glanced up from his own phone with a furrowed brow. He eyed Hanzo’s reddening cheeks suspiciously for a beat, then swallowed his mouthful of Lucky Charms and propped his chin on his hand with a long-suffering sigh.

“You still going to try and tell me you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, because I don’t,” Hanzo grumped. “And hush, someone might hear you.”

“From where? Dad’s office? The yoga studio? The housekeeper’s not here this early.” Genji exhaled heavily through his nose. “So what’s up with you for reals? You’ve been grinning and blushing and checking your phone a lot more than usual. And don’t say it’s nothing.”

Hanzo hesitated, chewing his lip. “It’s … just a friend.”

“‘Friend’ as in ‘maybe future boyfriend’ kind of friend?” Genji prompted.

“I dunno.” Hanzo slumped in his chair, watching his brother pick the marshmallows out of his now-soggy cereal. He was probably waiting for him to elaborate. “Just a friend, I guess. Someone I met online and like talking to. I don’t even know if they’re a guy.”

“Find out,” Genji recommended before shoving a spoonful into his mouth. He chewed contemplatively, staring out of the breakfast nook’s picture window at the koi pond in the garden below. His fingers drummed on the table. Hanzo decided to go back to eating.

“Mom noticed, you know. She asked me about it.”

Hanzo froze, then slowly lowered the bite of rice and egg that had only made it halfway to his mouth back into his bowl with an audible gulp. “What did you tell her?” he asked after a few heartbeats that felt like several hours each, his voice hoarse.

Genji shrugged. “That I wasn’t sure. She wanted to know if it was a girl and I told her that it definitely wasn’t a girl. Then she ‘hmmm-ed’ at me like she does and left for her charity luncheon.” Genji paused, brow slightly furrowed and concern creeping into his voice. “You think you’re ever gonna tell them? I think Mom would be okay with it.”

“If Mother found out, it would only be a matter of time before Father found out,” Hanzo mumbled in reply, picking up his phone once more to signal that the conversation was over. Genji opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it, closing it again with a small sigh and standing to put his bowl in the sink.

\-------

Jesse smiled and shook his head as Señora Hernandez left the feed store with her birdseed. Jesse had just spent twenty minutes discussing the particulars of several local breeds of chicken with her in rapid Spanish, despite knowing for a fact that she neither owned chickens nor intended to buy any (she lived on the third floor of an apartment building). She was one of his favorite regulars: a sweet old lady who just wanted some company.

There weren't any other customers asking questions at the moment, so Jesse let his mind wander as he straightened up the shelf of horse grooming supplies that a couple of kids had messed up while he was talking to Sra. Hernandez.

_... going to get started on chapter three today, set down the framework for that side-plot ... there's that scholarship essay contest, so maybe I should take another shot at Atlas Shrugged ... wait another chapter to introduce that OC - don't want to attach too much significance to her ... wonder what kind of martial arts DoubleDragon does -- they didn't say ... I really don't wanna read Atlas Shrugged ... good running trail this morning, gotta remember that one …_

Jesse's thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking on the brim of his hat. He looked up, a bottle of Mane n' Tail in his right hand and a currycomb pinched in the claw-like prehensor where his left used to be. One of his co-workers, Maggie, stood there, a pained look on her face.

"One of your favorite customers is asking for you," she said in a singsong voice, putting on that exaggerated smile people use when they have bad news. Jesse didn't like that at all.

"Which one?" he asked suspiciously, craning his neck but unable to see above the shelving from his crouched position.

"Mr. Wayne."

Jesse grimaced. Mr. Wayne thought he was funny, but he was actually the worst. He bit back a groan as he set the things he was holding back on the shelf, stood, and brushed off the knees of his jeans with his right hand. Squaring his shoulders, he put on his very best easygoing smile and headed for the front of the store.

Mr. Wayne, a fat, aging rancher with more hair in his moustache than on his head, beamed at Jesse as he walked up, his thumbs hooked in his belt. The buckle was at least twice as big as Jesse's, and that was certainly saying something.

"There y'are, son! What took y'so long? Hidin' a bum leg in there too?" he boomed, then slapped Jesse on the back with a hearty laugh, making him stumble forward half a step. "Aw, I'm just funnin' with ya'!"

"What can I do for ya' today, Mr. Wayne?" Jesse asked politely, trying not to cringe as he set his hat to rights.

"Wanted t'take a look at yer horse trailers an' check out the quality of this week's hay while th'boys load up m'usual." Mr. Wayne's thumbs were hooked in his belt once more as he moseyed along beside Jesse. "Think y'can give me a hand wi'that?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Wayne." It was all Jesse could do to not grit his teeth as Mr. Wayne laughed uproariously: when he made jokes of his own about The Claw to Fareeha or pretend to pinch her with it to make her laugh it was one thing, but when Mr. Wayne did it, he just felt awkward and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, he had to hear some variation of that joke every single time his least favorite customer came in … it was blessedly infrequent, but downright torture. No one ever said anything to the man because he was among their highest-spending customers, and he always tipped Jesse heavily "for lettin' me mess with ya," so Jesse grinned and bore it. They weren't supposed to accept tips, either, but even his manager, Jackson, looked the other way because everyone figured Jesse deserved it for putting up with him.

Nearly an hour and at least a dozen hand and arm jokes later, Mr. Wayne left with his usual feed and an order for three horse trailers, while Jesse headed to his break fifteen minutes late with his wallet fifty dollars heavier. 

Maggie was leaning her chair back on its hind legs, making her way through a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. "Survive?"

Jesse snorted and stole one of her chips. A startled "Hey!" followed him to the refrigerator, where he pulled out his can of soda and stuck a straw in it so he could drink it left-handed: he could hold the can just fine, but didn’t quite trust himself to lift it to drink with his prosthetic and not spill. "Barely," he groused, dropping into a chair. "But better him pesterin' me than bein' a creeper on one o' you pretty girls."

"Ugh, don't even go there." Maggie snorted and made an exaggerated shudder as Jesse checked his phone. He had two new replies from DoubleDragon waiting for him, and he smiled crookedly as he typed out a reply to the first one.

Maggie was eyeing him when he looked up from replying, and seemed to be thinking hard.

"Y'know," she said after a moment. "I used to almost never see you checking your phone."

"Yeah?" Jesse drew the word out to imply 'so what?'

"Just every time I see you now, you're there just typin' away or whatever." She shrugged, crumpled her chip bag, and threw it at the trash. She missed. "You meet someone?"

"Uhhh ... just a friend." Already feeling his face heat up, Jesse cleared his throat and took a long sip of his soda. The bad thing about a straw was that you couldn't hide your face tilting your head back to drink.

Retrieving the crumpled bag and dropping it in the bin, Maggie smirked. "Yeah, uh huh. Sure. You don't have to tell me, but don't think you're not, like, super obvious. See ya." Her break over, she sauntered back out toward the sales floor.

Jesse groaned and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the table. Two more hours of this, and then he could go home. At least it wasn't his turn to cook supper.

\-------

Angela Zeigler was a prodigy, which was why Jesse hardly got to see her anymore: her freshman year of college had coincided with his junior year of high school, despite the fact that they were the same age and had been in the same class through much of middle school. Jesse didn’t quite have it in him to be jealous that she was attending Harvard.

Today, he had walked the three blocks to her house, glad that they were planning on swimming after the mid-July heat had thoroughly stuck both of his shirts to his back and chest. Angie was already wearing her bathing suit when she answered the door, wedging herself between it and the frame as an awkward wall of limbs to keep her dog from greeting Jesse with enough enthusiasm to knock him off the porch.

“Hey Ange,” he said, giving her a one-armed hug as he slipped inside and sighed in relief at the sub-arctic temperatures the Zeiglers kept their house at before dropping to a knee, letting Dreyfuss smother him in kisses. The St. Bernard was larger than he was. “How you been? I haven’t seen you since y’got back into town.”

Angie pulled a face at the sweaty hug and gave Jesse’s shaggy head a playful shove. “Busy. I’ve been volunteering at the hospital a lot. What about you? Still working at the feed store?”

“Yeah. Not too much else. Started up hiking again, lookin’ at hittin’ up the rail trail. Also finished the story I was workin’ on last time you were back and got goin’ on another.”

Frowning slightly, Angie looked down at where Jesse had ended up sitting on the floor, Dreyfuss practically in his lap. “You’re being careful hiking, right? The rail trail has a lot of climbing and I wouldn’t put it past you to get stuck somewhere.” 

Jesse tried to meet her disapproving gaze around the dog’s head with little success. “It’s just some little hills and stuff, Ange, not a cliff face or nothin’.”

“It still doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Angela huffed and pursed her lips. “If I hear you did something dumb and re-broke something, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’” Jesse tried not to roll his eyes as he looked up at her, and wasn’t altogether successful. “Are we going to go swimming or are you going to play with my dog all day?” she asked. 

“Well, yeah,” Jesse tried to get out from under Dreyfuss, but the dog wasn’t moving. Angela shoved him away. “Just gotta get my arm off.” 

“Why did you put it on if you’re just going to take it off?”

“I’m not gonna jes’ walk around town without it!” Jesse took off his outer tee and stole a glance at Angela as he started undoing the fastenings on the harness for his prosthetic arm. She was studiously paying attention to the dog, which Jesse appreciated: while Angie was one of the few people he was alright being around without the arm, he still didn’t like being watched while he put it on or took it off.

Jesse finished, and let Angela take the prosthetic to shut it in the cabinet so Dreyfuss couldn’t get to it while he pulled his undershirt over his head. When they had both finished, Jesse followed her through the house to the back door, rubbing his stump gingerly.

“Nuh uh, not you too,” Angela grumped at Dreyfuss as they stepped onto the back porch, shoving his shaggy head back inside when he tried to slip out after them. “I’m not dealing with wet dog for the rest of the day.” 

The water was blessedly cool, not yet having been warmed by the sun, and the two of them jumped in feet first, laughing as they had when they were younger. 

Jesse and Angela swam less than they sat on the stone steps, water up to their shoulders, and talked over the incessant buzz of the cicadas in the acacia trees at the edge of the yard. Jesse mostly listened, Angie telling him about how different Boston was from Santa Fe, how busy she was at school, and some of the strange or interesting things that had happened while she was volunteering at the hospital. That was how it had always been: her carrying the conversation while Jesse kept his own life close to his chest until she ran out of words and started to nudge him into sharing. Just a little.

“There are so many pretty girls and cute boys,” Angela lamented after awhile. “But they’re all at least two years older than me, I’m still underage, and I hardly have time to flirt, let alone date.”

“Hmmm. If y’dated a freshman this next year, they’d only be a year older, and that wouldn’t be too bad,” Jesse teased, bumping his shoulder into hers. 

“I think you missed the part where I’m too busy to even flirt,” Angela said with a huff. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Don’tcha think I’da told you already if I was?” Jesse’s grin was lopsided as he side-eyed her.

Angela gave him a keen look. “Not necessarily,” she answered, and she was right. “You like someone, though,” she added. Why did she have to be so observant?

“Naw.” Jesse shook his head and leaned back on the steps to get his hair wet again. Angela splashed him when he sat up, and wisely let it go.

\-------

Hanzo could hear crickets outside as he sat brooding over the comment he had just written, not quite ready to hit “send” yet. The quiet nighttime sounds were occasionally punctuated by Genji yelling at Mario Kart or something down the hall.

There was nothing wrong with the comment itself, per se, only with the fact that it was on the final chapter of the last of HighNoon’s stories. It had been their earliest posted work and it showed: HighNoon must have been quite young when they wrote it. It was still a fun story, though, and he had stalled in reading this chapter for two days - one had been on purpose, while the other had been because the family had spent much of it at the temple for Obon - so that it wouldn’t be over.

He worried that this would be the end of his talking to HighNoon, the feeling sitting like a stone in his belly. He had never connected this much with an author before, and he reflected with some chagrin that he hadn’t bothered to connect this much with practically anyone before.. 

Chewing his lip, Hanzo added one more line to his comment before sending it: "I am actually quite sad to have reached the end of your archive. I know I have said that waiting for new chapters makes me crazy, but I may have to get over it just so we can keep conversing."

\---

Jesse had been diligently working on his fic for the past month, although he had spent enough time replying to DoubleDragon that he had needed to fudge his schedule a bit, and ended up thinking about their last topic of conversation at times when his head was normally buzzing with story ideas. Not that he was complaining: DoubleDragon was literally every author's dream reader, and had given him some really useful feedback. He enjoyed talking to them, whether it was about the story or they strayed to other topics near the end of the comment thread. Despite the fact that they rarely spoke about themselves and he didn’t know much about DoubleDragon at all, he was starting to refer to them as a friend in his head rather than a reader.

It was a Sunday, and Jesse had been replying to the thread that he DoubleDragon had going on Chapter 11 of the first story he had ever posted on the site, back when he was 14. He cringed thinking about that one sometimes, but people seemed to like it (he had to admit that it was funny if nothing else) and it was one of the few really mild ones he had written, so he left it up. Their conversations about this fic had been mostly about tropes, writing improvements, and the source material (an action series that had been popular when he was in middle school), which was fine by Jesse. By the time he had finished with his reply, there was one for Chapter 12, and Jesse felt his gut twist looking at it.

He hadn't really thought before what would happen when he didn't have anything else for DoubleDragon to read. This could be the last comment thread for a few months while he finishes his current fic, and the idea upset him more than he would have guessed. Finally, he clicked it and read, anxiously winding the fingers of his right hand into his hair.

The nasty jangling of nerves that had started up quickly dissipated, Jesse's grin nearly splitting his face in two as he replied with only one line:

"I'd hate to make you crazy. How about we talk somewhere else?"

He added his screen name on a few social media sites and chat platforms (he rarely used any of them but could certainly start), and hit send.

\---

> **Profile**  
>  **Email:** shimada.hanzo@gmail.jp  
>  **Password:** *************  
>  **Display Name:** BlueDragonArcher  
>  **Location:** Seattle, WA USA  
>  **Age:** 18  
>  **Birthday:** 12/12/****

Hanzo had never used this chat platform before. By his understanding, it had been primarily developed with gamers in mind, but had become popular with others that wanted to make use of its dedicated server system. He vaguely remembered Genji mentioning that he used it, but he didn't know his brother's display name and was pretty sure he didn't want to. It took a bit of navigating to figure out where he wanted to go at first since he didn't want to join a server, but eventually found where to send someone a direct message.

Chewing his lip nervously, Hanzo debated for awhile on what to say. What would HighNoon think of him when they weren't discussing their work? The two of them had spoken on other topics, of course, in their long comment threads, but those topics had been at least tangentially related to something in the chapter. Now that they would be talking in real time, there was probably the expectation that they would talk about themselves.

Finally, he decided that he had best just say hello and see what happened from there.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Hello, it's DoubleDragon from the fanfiction archive. That name was taken here. How are you?

> **HighNoon:** Hey there! I was hoping I'd hear from you!  
>  **HighNoon:** So is your name a character reference?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** No, I used to shoot competitively, but stopped when my family moved to the United States.

> **HighNoon:** Wow, that's really cool! Where did you move from?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I am from Japan. You live in the USA?

> **HighNoon:** Yeah, I'm in New Mexico

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I would have guessed Texas

> **HighNoon:** lol I knew you were going to say that

> **BlueDragonArcher:** It was all the cowboy AUs

> **HighNoon:** Hey, write what you know :)

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Are you a cowboy then?

> **HighNoon:** lol not really but that would be pretty cool. I grew up reading Westerns, so it's a genre I'm comfortable with while I practice my writing.

Jesse grinned over the rim of his water glass at the screen, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He hadn’t been sure that he’d hear from DoubleDragon, now BlueDragonArcher, and he felt a pleasant buzz in his chest that he had. Perhaps they had been thinking of him as a friend as much as he’d been thinking of them that way.

The thing about Westerns had been only a part of it, but there wasn’t any reason to go into the rest of it right now.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** You have written the fanfiction equivalent of 7 full-length novels. I believe you have gotten more than enough practice.  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** Not that I'm telling you that you should stop. Just that you are skilled enough to move on to other projects if that is what you wish to do

> **HighNoon:** Well aint you sweet. I'm trying for a college scholarship with writing since i cant get one for sports tho

> **BlueDragonArcher:** That is admirable. I'm beginning college in August

> **HighNoon:** Where at?  
>  **HighNoon:** I’ll be a senior in high school.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I'm going to UC Berkeley  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** Do you have a college you are looking at?

> **HighNoon:** Wow, Berkeley  
>  **HighNoon:** Nah, no dream school. I figure I'll go anywhere I can get a scholarship, and if not, I'll settle for Santa Fe Community and try to work through it

Jesse crunched an ice cube as the conversation hit a momentary lull, and it occurred to him that now that they weren’t commenting publicly, it felt a little weird calling the person by their screen name. Or rather, it felt a little weird being called by his screen name.

> **HighNoon:** Since we’re not on the fanfic boards anymore, you may as well call me Jesse.

The bottom of the window flicked “ _BlueDragonArcher is typing …_ ” on and off several times, as though they kept changing their mind as to how to reply. The pleasant buzzing threatened to turn sour, nerves telling him that he may have crossed a line.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** My name is Hanzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All Saints is apparently all over the place for realsies, but [Momo](http://momoseattle.blogspot.com/) is also a real shop in Seattle. I want to go next time I'm up that way.  
> *There are so many more interchangeable things for prosthetics than I ever thought. The Claw is modeled after [this one](https://www.trsprosthetics.com/product/grip-5-evolution-prehensor/), but there are a lot of other interesting ones from this company alone.  
> *Jesse's favorite gum was supposed to be Black Jack, but they stopped making it a few years ago so I had to settle for Big Red.  
> *The [Rail Trail](https://www.traillink.com/trail/santa-fe-rail-trail/) that Jesse mentions to Angie looks like a pretty sweet hike.  
> *Pineapple is the best pizza topping. Hanzo agrees with me


	2. California Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo makes his big move.

It was mid-morning when Jesse slowed from his easy jog to a more leisurely walk at the highest point of the Arroyo de los Chamisos trail, eventually coming to a stop so that he could fish a water bottle out of his backpack. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his upper lip and dampened the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, occasionally coalescing enough for a drop to roll down his back and soak into his shirt.. 

He had come out early, looking forward to a day in the sunshine. It was with a carefree smile that he gazed out over the mountains, absently sipping at his water: the view from up here always did wonders for his soul. 

Eventually, though, Jesse tucked the water bottle away and pulled out his phone to check the time. It was about what he expected, but the notification that he had a message waiting for him on his app was a surprise. Should he open it now? He only had so much data on his phone plan, and there was definitely no wifi to piggyback off of out here. If the message was from Hanzo (and it probably was), then he would understand Jesse answering him later. Then again, if it was from Hanzo, Jesse wanted to talk to him _now_.

Impatience won out and Jesse opened the app. The message was less than ten minutes old.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** How are you? I am between classes and just wanted to say hello

> **HighNoon:** I’m good. You caught me right at a water break. What classes?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Genji insisted I join him for yoga again this morning, and I had 40 mins between the end of the class and my slot at the archery range. I didn’t want to get started on a workout in the short time period  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** I thought you didnt work on Thursdays

> **HighNoon:** Genji your brother?  
>  **HighNoon:** I don’t! I’m out on a hike

Jesse turned his phone to take a photo over the mountains.

> **HighNoon:** Here’s the view from where i’m at right now

> **BlueDragonArcher:** It’s beautiful. Do you go often?  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** And yes, Genji is my brother

> **HighNoon:** Not as often as I used to. Had to take a long break from it  
>  **HighNoon:** On the easy part right now, so mostly been jogging. I’ll hit the rougher part before lunch though  
>  **HighNoon:** how was yoga?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** It was enjoyable. I might go more often if I didn’t have so much else scheduled  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** I should get my things together for archery. Enjoy the rest of your hike!

> **HighNoon:** Have fun at archery!

\--------

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Hello, how was the hike?

> **HighNoon:** Good! I’d never gotten to go on the rougher trail before, so it was an experience. Got some good pictures  
>  **HighNoon:** Tired, though  
>  **HighNoon:** How was archery?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** It went well. Nothing out of the ordinary

> **HighNoon:** It’s cool that you’re into the archery and martial arts and all that.  
>  **HighNoon:** you see a lot of kids wanting to do karate or whatever but you don’t hear about archery so much  
>  **HighNoon:** it’s not like it’s something they have at school here

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Do you play any sports? I meant to ask before

> **HighNoon:** I played football freshman and sophomore year

> **BlueDragonArcher:** why did you stop?

There was a long pause, with nothing to indicate that Jesse was typing for several minutes.

> **HighNoon:** i got in an accident and couldn’t do the full contact anymore  
>  **HighNoon:** now i sorta just run in the mornings and do my own thing

Hanzo got the distinct feeling that he shouldn’t ask.

\-------

Jesse padded down the stairs in bare feet and flannel pajama pants, careful not to wake Ana or Fareeha. He had a singular, important mission on his mind: Peanut Butter Sandwich. His mouth watered just thinking of it, and his stomach growled as if to tell him to hurry it up.

In the kitchen, Jesse noted that he would have to add peanut butter to the grocery list: his midnight snacking had nearly wiped it out. He checked the refrigerator. The light from the inside was just as cold as the air billowing out of it, providing a welcome respite from the insufficiently cooled house. He lingered over deciding whether to add anything to his sandwich just because he could, a few drops of sweat beginning to chill at his temples.

Jelly? No, they only had grape. Yuck. Pickles? Nah, he wasn’t wearing his arm this late and it was annoying to slice them one-handed. Half the fun of a peanut butter and pickle sandwich was grossing out Fareeha, anyway. He settled on one of those individually wrapped cheese slices that he suspected were actually made of plastic but loved anyway.

Jesse reached for the jug of milk, frowned at it, and put it back. There was just enough for a bowl of cereal in the morning, and Ree would be upset if she couldn't have her marshmallow ... whatever those fake Lucky Charms in the bag were called. He settled for a glass of ice water, assembled his sandwich, and headed back upstairs with the sandwich balanced on top of his glass, already missing standing in front of the open refrigerator door.

Setting his food on the nightstand and sprawling out on his bed, Jesse reached over to grab his sandwich, downing it in four bites. He drank the water more slowly, occasionally crunching one of the many ice cubes. The heat wasn't going to let him fall asleep any time soon, so he picked up his phone, his face lit up by the bluish glow of its screen in the otherwise dark room.

> **HighNoon:** hey there. you on?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** you're up late

> **HighNoon:** midnight snack. didn't disturb you, did i?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** no, i was up. also getting something to eat

> **HighNoon:** what you got?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** stuffed grape leaves and dates with brie. mother had a caterer over with samples for an event she's hosting and there was extra. You?

> **HighNoon:** lol I don't know whether that sounds good or not. I had a peanut butter and cheese sandwich. man of simple tastes

There was a very long pause.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** ... i have nothing to say about that combination

Well, peanut butter and cheese wasn't for everyone.

> **HighNoon:** so what are you up to tomorrow?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** the usual gym and martial arts in the morning, but then i have to pack up what i'm taking with me for school. we're leaving for california on friday.

> **HighNoon:** wow, that's really early

> **BlueDragonArcher:** classes start on the 18th and my parents wish for me to be fully settled in by then  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** what are you doing?

What _was_ he doing? Since Jesse was off, it occurred to him that he could walk to the store and do the shopping, as Ana had been working late that week and hadn't found the time to do it herself. He could pick up the important things, at least: he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to carry a week's worth of groceries the mile home by himself, and Fareeha's old wagon had been repurposed as a planter ages ago. It was currently full of echeverias with pinkish tips.

> **HighNoon:** got some chores and that chapter I'm working on. might see about hitting the grocery

The more he thought about it, the more it sounded like a good idea. He was debating what to buy (aside from milk) when Hanzo's next message popped up.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** you do the grocery shopping?

> **HighNoon:** normally i just help, but Ana's been real busy this week. figure i'll just go pick up what i can carry home

> **BlueDragonArcher:** why don't you just drive?

Jesse frowned at his phone. He should have expected that question eventually, and here he just walked right into it. Should he explain? How vague could he be without sounding rude? He typed and deleted three different replies before finally settling on one.

> **HighNoon:** no license. not that big on cars and i live in walking distance of almost everything anyway

\-------

Hanzo had been thrown for a loop by the ungodly combination of peanut butter and cheese, and then thrown for another, smaller, loop by "man of simple tastes." So did that mean Jesse was definitely a guy? His internet search trying to determine the gender of the name not been entirely helpful, with the pages upon pages of debate threads discussing whether the spelling of "Jesse" was exclusively masculine. His hopes confirmed, he was admittedly not paying full attention to the rest of the conversation until there was a lull, the _"HighNoon is typing ..."_ notification popping up, then disappearing, then popping up again several times in a row.

Had he said something wrong?

His gut clenching in apprehension, Hanzo re-read the past few lines they had typed. Nothing seemed off to him, so he re-read the rest of the conversation. It stood out that they led very different lives, but that was about it.

Finally, the notification stopped blinking.

> **HighNoon:** no license. not that big on cars and i live in walking distance of almost everything anyway

Hanzo pursed his lips, the knot in his stomach loosening, but not dissipating entirely. That seemed ... reasonable enough. He guessed that there was probably more to it than that, and that it would probably be best if he didn't pry.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** understandable

> **HighNoon:** so, you excited about moving?

Hanzo didn’t mind the change in topic, and by the time they stopped talking, it wasn’t long before sunrise.

\------

Hanzo sat on the edge of his bed, looking around his room. It seemed a lot emptier than it had any right to, with the only things packed being two large suitcases, meant to accompany him on the plane, and a few boxes to be mailed separately. Many of his things were staying here: he had more clothing and shoes than he had any business taking with him, and there was no point in taking the bedding since his mother had already purchased replacements. They had already been sent ahead of him with he didn’t even know what else: Mother always seemed to know what he liked or needed, despite rarely consulting him.

Now, though, his desk was empty, cleared of his usual stacks of books and notes, and his bookshelves were missing several of his favorite volumes. His bonsai trees had been relegated to the atrium for someone else to take care of while he was gone, probably his mother. His archery equipment, a standard fixture of his room, had been carefully packed into one of the boxes now sitting by the front door, waiting to be sent on its way to California. Not many things were missing; only the important ones.

Hanzo heaved a sigh and dropped backward into the plushness of the goose down, the house too quiet around him as he stared at the ceiling fan. This wasn’t his childhood home - in fact, he had only been here for five years - and he felt as though leaving it should not affect him as much as it did. It was just … the last time he had left a home behind, he hadn’t been alone. His throat constricted and there was a burning behind his eyes that he tried to blink away.

The door opened almost soundlessly and Hanzo did not look up. He was not surprised, though, when Genji climbed up onto the bed next to him and flopped down so that their heads were close together.

“Is it weird knowing it’s your last night here?” There was a waver to Genji’s voice, barely noticeable.

“Yeah, weird.” Hanzo turned his head to get an eyeful of neon green hair. “A little surreal, I guess.”

“Do you think you’ll like California?”

“Maybe. I hope so.” He could feel his own voice wavering now, his chest tightening to match his throat. “You won’t get into too much trouble without me here, will you?”

“I’m gonna get into _all_ the trouble without you here.” Genji forced a laugh. “It’s gonna be weird with you gone.”

There were a few moments of silence before Genji turned his head so that they were facing one another. “We’ll still talk, right?” He looked so very young to Hanzo in that moment, his voice plaintive.

“Yeah,” Hanzo answered, his voice rough. “We will. Every day if you want to.”

“Okay.” It was barely a whisper, Genji perhaps not trusting his voice anymore. He reached over to twine his fingers with his brother’s, and Hanzo squeezed his hand.

“I’ll miss you.”

\------

The brief plane ride had been standard for the Shimada family: Hanzo and Genji sat behind their parents in first class, Genji playing a video game while Hanzo attempted to read without much luck. It was worse than usual, Hanzo's head buzzing with mingled nerves and anticipation, and when he closed his book during the plane's descent, he couldn't even have said what the title was.

The hotel was also standard: the boys' room and their parents' shared a common suite area on the top floor, booked for the weekend. Genji appreciated the room service. Hanzo appreciated not being in a room alone, although he never would have admitted it.

The rest of the trip, however, was anything but.

"Mom! What are you wearing?" Genji cried in horror as Masako stepped into the suite on Saturday morning in a floral print top, capris, and a pair of slingback wedges. Hanzo hadn't been aware his mother even owned such casual street clothes. She fixed her younger son with a withering look that had Genji quickly directing his attention back to his phone.

“At least they’re not mom jeans,” he muttered under his breath so that only Hanzo could hear.

"We are going to visit some of the businesses near your apartment after breakfast," Masako told Hanzo, who simply nodded. He had no idea what businesses she had in mind or why they were visiting them.

It wasn't much longer before Sojiro finished whatever phone conversation he had been conducting in rapid Japanese the next room over. The family headed downstairs, and, once breakfast was finished, off to Masako’s intended destination in their rented sedan.

Hanzo gazed out the window at the city as it went by, eyes scanning street names and silently judging the buildings they passed. His judgments were mostly positive: the quaint, colorful businesses reminded him of a mixture of Seattle and the more metropolitan areas around Hanamura.

The car came to a stop in a district where many of the signs were in both English and Japanese, Sojiro waving his wife along. He dialed his phone and resumed speaking on it as Masako and the boys exited the car, and Hanzo couldn't be sure whether not he was continuing the conversation he had been having before breakfast.

"Come now," Masako urged, ushering her two teenage sons like a pair of ducklings into a small market. She made a beeline for the front counter, where an older woman was sitting on a stool reading a newspaper, and struck up a conversation with the other woman as though they had known each other for years. Genji, looking just as confused as Hanzo felt, wandered off immediately to look at the imported snacks.

Hanzo hovered nearby, perusing an endcap filled with tea and listening to his mother chattering in Japanese with the shop owner about their children, the fact that Masako was visiting the city, the towns in Japan they had each originally moved here from ... it was with a sense of growing dread that he realized what she was about to do. Hanzo had nearly decided to make himself scarce when his mother called him over.

"Hanzo, this is Mrs. Iwatome. Mrs. Iwatome, this is my eldest son Hanzo, who is coming to live in this city for school and will be alone for the first time. Please watch out for him."

Masako made a quick bow, Hanzo following suit with a murmured _"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu"_ before being looped into a lengthy conversation regarding his schooling, Mrs. Iwatome's daughter who was only slightly older than him and conveniently single, and a great deal more local gossip than he cared to know about. Genji showed up at the counter part way through, his arms full of snacks and ramune, but disappeared once Masako had introduced him and Mrs. Iwatome had commented on the garish color of his hair. Hanzo assumed he had retreated to the safety of the car and his video game: his was a position to be envied.

The scene repeated itself at the tea shop across the street, a restaurant, an art supply store, another restaurant, a bookstore, a clothing shop, yet another restaurant, and a second market on the next street over. Genji wisely opted to remain in the car with their father while Hanzo was dragged from shop to shop. Except for the restaurants: even Sojiro was obligated to go in and sit down for tea and a small meal, phone stowed, while Masako made conversation with the management and essentially ensured that Hanzo was introduced to every Japanese business owner within a half mile radius.

By the time Masako was satisfied that her work here was done, Hanzo was tired, full, and beginning to feel a headache coming on. The whole affair had been painfully embarrassing, and Genji seemed unsure whether to bestow great pity upon his elder brother or to laugh.

Hanzo's heart sank into his stomach when he realized that the route they were taking most certainly did not lead back to their hotel. What else did his mother have in store for him?

\-------

> **BlueDragonArcher:** my mother is so embarrassing

> **HighNoon:** what did she do?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** we're in California now and she just took me to every single Japanese store or restaurant she could find near where i will be living so she could introduce me to the owners  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** she's never even met any of these people.  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** i had to eat lunch three times

> **HighNoon:** what?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** THREE TIMES

> **HighNoon:** that's just wierd.  
>  **HighNoon:** no offense to your mom  
>  **HighNoon:** i'm not saying SHE'S weird  
>  **HighNoon:** i'll stop now

> **BlueDragonArcher:** lol. its okay, i know what you mean  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** i think the first lady we talked to is going to try to fix me up with her daughter though

> **HighNoon:** ???  
>  **HighNoon:** you gonna???

> **BlueDragonArcher:** NO

> **HighNoon:** fair enough  
>  **HighNoon:** didn't want to assume you didn't go both ways

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I don't remember mentioning i go either way

> **HighNoon:** I know what you read

> **BlueDragonArcher:** fair enough

\------

It wasn't long after Hanzo had finished his brief conversation with Jesse -- and carefully closed the app lest someone else see it -- that the car rolled to a stop once more. Tsugawa's Nursery. Hanzo sighed heavily, his breath fogging up the cold glass. He had hoped they were done with introductions.

Masako exited the car with a little extra spring to her step, taking Hanzo's arm as he tried to keep his face from displaying his absolute lack of enthusiasm.

"Thank you for your patience today," she said, patting his bicep. "I know it is not what you were expecting."

"No, it was not," Hanzo admitted.

"Just this one more." They passed under an archway onto a gravel path that branched between sprawling plots of plants and shrubs. The smell of greenery was thick in the air, layered atop that of rich soil. "There is a reason we have come here last."

Slowly, as though she were enjoying a stroll through an elegant private garden rather than a nursery, Masako led Hanzo down a side path, between a pair of small buildings. It didn't look as though customers belonged there.

Hanzo was beginning to wonder whether he should say something when they emerged into an outdoor work area, low wooden tables bearing dozens of bonsai in various stages of training. A man standing at one of the tables turned when he heard their feet crunch on the gravel, and he smiled when he saw them.

"Masako, it is good to see you." Setting his tools down, the man made his way over to where Hanzo and his mother were standing.

"It is good to see you as well. Kazuo, this is my son, Hanzo. The one I bought the schefflera and the jade for. He will be living near here while he attends school."

Hanzo bowed, glad that this time, at least, he was being introduced to someone his mother actually knew. Knew very well, considering how they greeted each other. After the requisite few minutes of small talk in Japanese, the conversation turned to bonsai and Hanzo was obliged to dig through his phone, looking for the photos he had taken of the plants he had left in Seattle. Kazuo commented on the progress that he had made on their shapes, and then guided them around the work area, explaining the process being used on each.

Near the end of an hour of pleasant conversation, Hanzo's mother let go of his arm and nudged him toward the nearest work table.

"Go on, choose. I know you will be missing yours if you do not have some others to keep you company."

Hanzo paused for an instant, staring at his mother in surprise, then relaxed into a smile. "Thank you, Mother," he murmured before moving to look over each of the tiny trees.

"Any but the few with red or green tickets," added Kazuo. "The ones on the table nearest the doorway are only outside for pruning; they are best indoors."

Indoor plants would be best, Hanzo knew, for an apartment he had not yet seen the layout of. Still, he hovered next to a red azalea -- he had been considering one before he moved, but they were fussy and best left outside. This one was beautiful: an informal upright style grown root over rock, the number of buds ready to bloom promising to soon overshadow the greenery.  
"Your apartment balcony faces north and west," Masako supplied gently, no doubt seeing the look of longing her son was bestowing upon the plant.

Hanzo nodded. "This one, please," he breathed, moving to return to his mother's side. She shoo'ed him off toward the table of indoor plants.

"You cannot possibly only take one, no matter how lovely."

Eventually, Hanzo selected a forest style fukien tea, which Kazuo deemed an excellent choice, particularly suited to being indoors and apt to stay small for a long time. Once he and Masako had arranged for a Monday afternoon delivery, they said their goodbyes. Hanzo and his mother collected Genji on the way back to the car, his having taken a position against an archway while he chatted with a teenage girl who looked very sorry to see him go.

\-------

> **BlueDragonArcher:** i take it back. my mother is a lovely woman who can probably read minds

> **HighNoon:** well that was fast

\-------

Sunday was less draining mentally, but considerably more draining physically: Sojiro was in control of the itinerary, and the first half of the day was spent visiting both a nearby dojo and an archery range. Both stops were all business, with tours of the facilities, placement tests for instruction, and the negotiations of membership plans that would afford him the most unrestricted access possible. Hanzo had rather expected a visit to a gym as well, but his mother assured him that in addition to the excellent facilities on campus, his apartment complex had equipment on site that would be to his liking.

Hanzo did not expect the visit to the car dealership. His father had already purchased a Lexus of the same model he had in Seattle, and all that remained was for him to sign the paperwork. Once everything was finalized, Hanzo was handed the keys and instructed to familiarize himself with the city a bit before meeting his parents for dinner. He was also instructed to take Genji with him, as Sojiro and Masako had some things to tend to and didn't need him wandering about.

"What's even in this town?" Genji asked once they had gone, already climbing in through the passenger door and searching for likely destinations on his phone. "Anything you want to check out?"

"You choose something," Hanzo answered, feeling oddly abandoned as he slid into the driver's seat, the plasticky smell of new car assaulting his nostrils. Something would have to be done about that soon. He started the car and fiddled with the radio, fruitlessly searching for a station he liked until his brother wordlessly handed him an aux cord from somewhere inside his oversize jacket.

"I want ice cream," Genji said after a moment, turning his screen to display a listing for a popular spot and raising his voice above the music now playing through the speakers from Hanzo's phone. Hanzo turned it down.

"After lunch."

"So what do you want for lunch?"

"No Japanese restaurants," Hanzo answered quickly. "I had enough yesterday."

"Ugh, retweet." Genji snorted and swiped at his screen. "Okay, get out of the parking lot and turn left at the light."

With Genji as navigator, the brothers ended up getting sandwiches and ice cream before visiting a huge multi-story bookstore, finding the local shopping mall, making a brief tour of a variety of local eateries, and, much to Hanzo's confusion, stopping by an upscale tattoo and piercing parlor.

"This will be important later. I can feel it," was all Genji had said as Hanzo rolled his eyes and headed back to meet their parents for dinner.

\-------

When Hanzo and Genji reached the Italian restaurant their parents had chosen, Masako was just arriving herself. Sojiro was not with her, apparently already inside at the bar finishing up an informal meeting with a local client of his company.

Of course he would have been working. He was always working.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Hanzo kept expecting for something to happen, for someone to say something; he wasn’t sure what. Icy fingers of disappointment began to creep down his spine as the meal progressed, and he examined the filigree pattern on the edge of his plate with excessive care as he chewed morosely on his shrimp Alfredo. 

Genji had been stealing glances at his brother since they had sat down, watching as Hanzo’s mood slowly dampened. Finally, he stopped eating to lean an elbow on the table, twirling his fork between his fingers.

“So, um … anybody gonna say anything? ‘Cause it’s, like, the last time Hanzo’ll be having dinner with us for awhile. Like, months.”

Sojiro and Masako stopped eating abruptly and exchanged glances, while Hanzo turned to Genji with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. When no one said anything after a moment, Genji visibly deflated.

“‘Cause, like, we’re pretending it’s normal or something …” He trailed off in a mumble.

Hanzo leaned over and smiled wanly at his brother. “It’s okay,” he said, gently punching Genji’s shoulder.

Masako heaved a sigh and both brothers turned to look at her. “It is strange for us, too,” she said. “We did not want to make it any more emotional than it needed to be.”

“You will be settled in soon, and far too busy with studies and training to concern yourself with other things,” Sojiro added to Hanzo, and both parents resumed their meal, apparently having nothing else to say. Sojiro’s mind seemed to be elsewhere entirely. Masako’s eyes flicked up at her sons every now and then, but that was all.

Hanzo and Genji slowly returned to their meals, exchanging a series of eyerolls and raised brows to say that they would talk later. It left Hanzo only slightly downhearted: at least his brother would miss him, if no one else did.

\-------

The keys jangled as Hanzo unlocked the door to the apartment, a corner unit on the twelfth floor only a few blocks from the shopping district his mother had dragged him around the day before. Genji bounded in behind him, their parents following more sedately as he set his suitcase down in the living room. 

The place was an open floor plan, furnished, with two large sliding glass doors and an enclosed entryway. Genji immediately dragged Hanzo into one of the large bedrooms -- furnished but otherwise empty -- ‘to look around.’

“Are you okay?” he asked once they were out of earshot of their parents. “You seemed really down at dinner.”

Hanzo heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I just … I don’t know what I expected. It feels weird, knowing that you’re all leaving soon and I won’t see any of you for awhile. Not that I saw much of Father anyway,” he added with a huff. 

“Y’know, I kinda’ figured there’d be more to this too … it’s been like ‘here’s your new city, have some new stuff, see ya’ later.’” Genji stuck his lower lip out, looking far more indignant on Hanzo’s behalf than Hanzo felt himself.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “You know how they are. Mother fusses and Father buys things, and neither of them talk. It’s nothing new.”

Genji snorted and leaned over to butt his head against Hanzo’s chest, and Hanzo reached up to ruffle his lime-colored hair. “Hey, why don’t we _actually_ look around.”

Bringing his arms up to squeeze his older brother once, Genji stood up. Hanzo pretended not to see him sniffling, and draped his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Hey. We’ll still talk, remember? Every day, if you want to, like I said. I promise.”

The two of them took a look around the room while they were there -- the clothes closet was off the bathroom, with was a bit strange, but whatever -- before returning to the living room, where their parents were sitting on the couch, conversing quietly. Sojiro and Masako stopped talking abruptly to look up at their sons.

“The place is to your liking?” Sojiro gestured to the apartment in general as he rose. Although it was phrased as a question, Hanzo knew it wasn’t.

“Yes, it is very nice. Thank you, Father.”

Masako, too, stood. Her eyes were tight and her mouth wavered ever so slightly, as though she were trying hard not to let her neutral facial expression crack. “Your things are all here, aside from the deliveries tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“We will be needing to leave for the airport.” Hanzo’s father squeezed his shoulder, a rare gesture. “Do well, son.”

Once Sojiro had turned away, Hanzo’s mother reached up to gently touch his cheek. “Let us know how you are getting on.”

“I will, Mother.”

Genji was not so reserved, throwing his arms around Hanzo, who returned the hug so tightly that his brother’s back popped. Genji laughed, although it sounded a little shaky. “Bye, Hanzo. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Hanzo huffed a laugh and squeezed again. “That hardly rules anything out.”

“I wouldn’t hibernate in my apartment and not to talk to anybody, and that’s the important part. And I wouldn’t forget to call my brother.”

Smiling reassuringly at Genji, Hanzo released him and stepped back. “I won’t forget. You too.”

“Come, now,” Sojiro said from the entrance to the foyer, not ungently. Genji nodded, although Hanzo wasn’t sure who it was directed at, and went to join their parents. Hanzo followed them to the door, a knot in his stomach and a burning behind his eyes.

“Let me know when you land in Seattle,” he said to no one specifically, and made a little wave, which Genji returned. Sojiro nodded, and Masako turned her head away quickly.

And then they were gone.

\-------

Hanzo stood in the center of the living room after several minutes of standing in the foyer with his hand still resting on the doorknob, taking it in. With Genji and his parents gone, the place already felt lonely: it was nice, as he had told his father, but seemed bland and sterile with its white walls and modern-looking grey furniture. The only bit of personality looked to be the print on the largest wall: a floral monstrosity of giant poppies -- the artist had taken some liberties with the poppies’ color -- with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ in loopy script in the middle. 

Hanzo took it off the wall and shoved it into the space behind the couch.

After staring critically at the blank spot the print had left behind for a moment, Hanzo turned and headed into the bedroom to make sure his bed, at least, got set up. He found the mattress still wrapped in plastic, four boxes stacked neatly inside the door. He got to work with a heavy sigh, wrinkling his nose at the ”newly manufactured” smell the plastic left behind when he tore it off. 

The boxes yielded a thick mattress pad and cover, more sets of sheets than practical for one person, pillows, a down-filled duvet, and a new duvet cover in blue-grey, much like the one he had had back in Seattle. It didn’t take him long to put everything together, clean up the packaging, and put the extra sheets away. 

Most of the rest could wait; he had his suitcase with the clothes and personal items he would need for the next day. The other bedroom would need to be set up, the box of towels unpacked, and places found for the things that had accompanied him from his old room. Just not now. Rolling his shoulders to try to rid himself of the latent tension, Hanzo wandered out of his room and across the apartment to the kitchen, hoping that some of his tea things had made it in.

There were another two boxes waiting for him on the counter, neither of which he recognized, and a paper stuck to the refrigerator detailing a grocery delivery scheduled for first thing in the morning. Curious, he opened the first box to find all new tea things: a set of cups in blue lacquer over a light grey background, a matcha bowl and all of the paraphernalia that went with it, strainers, and a lovely tetsubin with a raised dragon pattern and a dark blue finish. He unpacked it slowly, handling each item and inspecting it with careful appreciation. The other box contained the tea itself: all of his favorites, accompanied by many of the sweets he liked to buy when they visited Japan. 

Hanzo smiled to himself, the tears threatening to prick at the corners of his eyes again as he filled the tetsubin and put it on to boil: his mother must have already been planning this when they had made their annual visit to Hanamura earlier in the summer. He took his time choosing which tea to make, settling on genmaicha: he had always found it comforting. Waiting for the water to heat, Hanzo sent a text to his mother thanking her for the gifts and telling her how lovely and appreciated everything was. She wouldn’t answer now, possibly already being on the plane, but would see it when they landed.

The thought hit Hanzo hard, and the loneliness he had been staving off with activity came back full force. Here on the top floor, not even the busy street below could penetrate the quiet, and only the bubbling of the teapot broke the silence.

Picking up his phone again, Hanzo opened his messaging app. Jesse was listed as offline, but that often seemed to be the case whether it was true or not. Hanzo hoped this was one of those “or not” times, as he desperately wanted someone to talk to.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Hello. Are you on?

A few minutes passed with no response, and the apartment seemed to grow colder as Hanzo finished making his tea. He waited.

> **HighNoon:** i am now. :) what's up?

Bringing his tea with him to the living room and dropping into a chair that looked more decorative than functional but was oddly comfortable, Hanzo smiled. He wondered what Jesse had been doing before, and felt a little thrill that he had put aside whatever it was to talk to him. 

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I just moved into my new place  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** It's too quiet

> **HighNoon:** Roommate not shown up yet?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** I am not in the dorms. My father wanted to make sure my studies weren’t disturbed and rented an apartment off campus even though i tried to tell him the dorms were fine  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** I suspect my mother had a hand in it. there's an extra bedroom so she will probably wish to visit  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** unannounced

> **HighNoon:** At least you won't have a roommate who smells or eats all your food or brings their dates over and tries to kick you out or forgets to put a sock on the doorknob

> **BlueDragonArcher:** a sock on the doorknob? really? is that a thing that actually happens?

> **HighNoon:** probably?

Hanzo huffed a laugh. He had seen the sock on the door in more than one of the college frat movies Genji had made him watch, and he had always wondered whether it was an actual thing, or just a trope common to the genre.

> **HighNoon:** is the place nice at least?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** yes, it’s nice. And mother even made sure there was a gym on site for days i am not on campus  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** the art was so bad i had to hide it though

> **HighNoon:** still planning to keep up that superman workout schedule, huh?  
>  **HighNoon:** that bad? I wanna see

Hanzo snorted and shook his head, but dragged the offending print out from behind the couch for long enough to take a picture of it with his phone before shoving it away out of sight once more. He sent it along, and laughed when he was immediately rewarded with a string of exclamation points and several emotes: the laughing tears one had been expected, but the Munsch’s scream emote and the ‘see no evil’ monkey were a surprise.

If they had already exchanged photos, he had the feeling he would have received a reaction image instead. 

> **HighNoon:** wow. looks like a 42 year old wine mom decorated  
>  **HighNoon:** thing is tackier than spilled molasses in july

Hanzo laughed again, the loneliness and isolation retreating more and more the longer he and Jesse talked. At least here, he didn’t have to try and keep a straight face while they were conversing, and if something Jesse said set the butterflies in his stomach to fluttering, no one would see him grinning at his phone. Perhaps there were more upsides to being out here by himself than he had thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Arroyo de los Chamisos trail](https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/new-mexico/arroyo-de-los-chamisos-trail) that Jesse is jogging on in the first scene is very pretty; if you follow the link and sort the photos "oldest first," the fourth picture is fairly close to the one I imagined him sending to Hanzo. The rougher part of the trail he told Hanzo he'd make it to before lunch is the [Santa Fe Rail Trail](https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/new-mexico/santa-fe-rail-trail), which is the one Angie suggested he not do in chapter 1. Jesse likes his long hikes.
> 
> I read [this really great article](http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20180821-is-this-phrase-the-swiss-army-knife-of-japanese) on the Japanese term "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu" and it really seemed to fit the scene.
> 
> The little section of town with all of the Japanese businesses are made up, but I borrowed the name Tsugawa's Nursery from the nursery in Woodland, WA that I used to go to with my mom as a kid. I bought my first bonsai tree there (it was a juniper) ... unfortunately for it, I have a black thumb. The dojo, range, and multi-storied bookstore they visited on Sunday are real places in the Berkeley area.
> 
> I talked a little bit about genmaicha after [Ch5 of Perfect Blend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510230/chapters/31759899). I find it comforting like Hanzo does, but I'm sure he drinks far more of it than I do.


	3. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes are starting up, and both Hanzo and Jesse have their own issues to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments; they make me smile and keep me going. <3 I haven't gotten to reply to many, but I adore them all the same. <3 <3 <3

Over the next week, Hanzo figured out exactly why his parents had delivered him to California so early: he had no idea what he was doing.

Cooking was the first mystery of the universe that Hanzo needed to unravel. His current repertoire included things on top of rice, sandwiches, things on top of noodles, eggs, things on top of salad, and whatever could be prepared as per the directions on the box. If he was going to make any other meals at home, he was going to have to expand his horizons.

Most of the time, it was easier to just eat takeout.

Laundry was an entirely different sort of animal. The washer and dryer, those great, intimidating behemoths in their lair off the foyer, did not give up their secrets readily. For a moment, Hanzo considered just hiring a laundry service: in Seattle, the housekeeper had collected the hampers they put outside the door on Tuesday and Friday, and he and Genji didn’t see the clothes again until Mrs. Encina returned them, cleaned and folded or hung for them to put away. There would doubtless be a time, however, when he realized at midnight that he wanted a specific thing for the morning, and laundry services weren’t good with that sort of thing.

Hanzo eventually consulted the internet rather than go off of the incomplete instructions on the inside of the washing machine door.

By day three, he was thoroughly frustrated with himself and his inability to function independently.

> **BlueDragonArcher** : i am useless

> **HighNoon** : aw, don’t say that. what’s wrong?

> **BlueDragonArcher** : i’m beginning to realize that by ‘settle in’, my parents meant ‘learn to feed yourself and do your own laundry’  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : i guess it’s good i’m learning before classes start  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : i kind of feel like this was a joke on their part?

> **HighNoon** : whoa there

> **BlueDragonArcher** : except that my father doesn’t have a sense of humor so i doubt it was intentional

> **HighNoon** : c’mon, you’re not useless. just learning new skills  
>  **HighNoon** : where’ve you gotten to now? figured any of it out yet?

> **BlueDragonArcher** : i looked up online how to do laundry  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : the test load of towels turned out okay  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : but they’re towels so that doesn’t mean much

> **HighNoon** : well, that’s a start

> **BlueDragonArcher** : cooking is a work in progress

> **HighNoon** : if you’re having troubles, maybe see if you can find a college cookbook?  
>  **HighNoon** : i bet that’s a thing  
>  **HighNoon** : get a kids cookbook if you’re really hard up for ideas  
>  **HighNoon** : my sister has one and it’s mostly easy stuff like pancakes and pizza dough  
>  **HighNoon** : or look it up online or something  
>  **HighNoon** : pinterest, i dunno

Looking for recipes online had crossed Hanzo’s mind. He just hadn’t actually gotten around to it yet. 

> **BlueDragonArcher** : lol, maybe i will try one of those  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : i can make a few things so at least i know how to turn on the stove

> **HighNoon** : you’re ahead of some people i k now then

\-------

Jesse browsed through the course catalog for Santa Fe Community College, still unsure of which major to focus on and hoping that one program or the other would be enticing enough to help him choose. Brow furrowed, he chewed the end of his pencil -- journalism was barely a certificate program, not at all what he wanted. Hopefully the history program would look more promising, or at least a regular English program.

The sun had started going down. Jesse wasn't sure when he reached over to turn on the lamp, only that he had done so. He read over the course catalog and program descriptions again -- no change. He could taste the splinters of wood on his tongue and feel them in his mouth -- how long ago had he chewed the eraser clean off? Where had it gone?

Finally, Jesse had to face the facts: his last backup plan was no longer viable. Never had been, really, and it hadn't occurred to him to do the research earlier: the nebulous idea that community college existed had seemed like enough before now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He spit out the bits of pencil, spluttering in disgust as he wiped them off his tongue, and drew the back of his hand across his mouth. It came away with a smear of graphite.

Jesse groaned and dragged himself away from his desk, then down the stairs to drop into one of the dining chairs. Ana looked up from her laptop as he let his face fall forward onto the table with a hollow "clump."

"What is it, habibi?" She tilted the screen to nearly-closed and leaned on her elbow, reaching across the table to nudge Jesse's head with a gentle finger.

"I'm stupid," he muttered in response, his voice muffled in the woven placemat.

"You are not stupid. What makes you say that?" Ana tweaked a lock of Jesse's hair as she said it, and he got the vague impression that she was humoring him, trying to lighten his mood.

Jesse lifted his head off the table slightly, just enough to look at Ana morosely through his untrimmed bangs . She pursed her lips, trying not to smile indulgently at his melodramatics.

"So y'know how I was jes' gonna do Santa Fe Community if I couldn't manage anywhere else?" He paused, chin on the table and arms hanging limply from his shoulders as she nodded. "So I was lookin' at the catalog tryin' to figure out between majors an' ... they just don't have 'em. They got this li'l thing goin' on for journalism and nothin' for history or English or anythin’ else I want, and my fool self never looked before now." Jesse brought his right arm up to the table and rested his head on it. "'Tween that and the military bein' a no-go," he added, lifting what remained of his left arm to illustrate and then letting The Claw flop into his lap. "I don't know what t'do."

Ana sighed and moved to sit in the chair next to Jesse's. "Come now." She nudged him to sit up and huffed a slight laugh when he complied. "You have been chewing your pencils again."

Jesse sulkily wiped his hand across his mouth again and came away with another smear of graphite as Ana stood. "Yeah ... " he admitted, exhaling heavily through his nose. There was suddenly a damp paper towel coming for his face, and no amount of time playing football could possibly prepare a man to dodge Ana Amari, especially if he was sitting down.

"You know, there is no need for you to rely on that school. Or even consider it, if it is not what you want." Ana was wiping the graphite from his mouth, and Jesse felt like he was five years old. Only at that age, nobody had been there to do things like that for him. "I am confident you can get into a proper university with no trouble. You are _very_ smart, and you work hard." She drew the towel away, still holding his chin, and smiled down at him reassuringly.

Jesse gazed up at her, eyes puppy-wide as a surge of emotion washed over him. He put his arms around Ana's waist in a hug, burying his face in her stomach. He wasn't going to cry. Her arms went around his shoulders and she pulled him close.

"It's jes' ... I'm scared I won't be able ta pay for it," he murmured into Ana's sweater. "Need t'feel like I got a backup plan."

Ana stroked his hair. "You know you do not have to do it all yourself. I will help, you do not need to worry."

"I don' wanna be a burden..." Jesse's voice was quiet. He felt very small.

"Oh, habibi ..." Pulling back a little, she tilted Jesse's head up to look him in the eye, her face earnest. "You are _not_ a burden. You are anything but. Even if you _want_ to try and do it by yourself -- I understand, I really do -- at least let me be your backup plan."

Jesse nodded with a weak smile. Maybe he was going to cry after all. He stood to give Ana another hug, feeling a little steadier -- even after five years, it was sometimes hard for him to remember that he had a family, and they had his back.

"Thanks Ana," he said, voice husky with emotion. "Love you."

Her face softened as she returned the hug. "I love you too, habibi." She ruffled his hair, then took his face in her hands. "Now why do you not go and look again at some schools. Find one you really want, and we will see what we can do."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks." Jesse turned to go once Ana released his face, feeling a little better. He really didn't want to have to rely on Ana for this, but it was good to know he could. Maybe a state school would be alright; he could see what was in New Mexico and save with in-state tuition. He could probably swing that himself, especially if there was one close enough that he didn't have to live in the dorms.

Already wrapped up in his thoughts, Jesse barely turned fast enough in response to his name being called to raise his hand and catch what Ana had thrown to him. He opened his fingers to find a pack of Big Red.

"To save your pencils," Ana teased, eliciting a genuine laugh. Jesse saluted with a sideways grin and the tip of an invisible hat.

"Thank y'kindly!"

Favorite gum in hand (he really needed to stop by the convenience store to restock), he headed back upstairs to take a serious look at state schools. He could hear Ana's soft chuckle, but missed the way her smile faded when his back was turned and she gazed up the stairs after him with furrowed brows.

\-------

> **BlueDragonArcher** : so how is the writing going?

> **HighNoon:** a little stuck actually D:

> **BlueDragonArcher:** what are you stuck on? maybe i can help get you unstuck?

> **HighNoon:** aw, wouldn’t want to spoil it for ya

> **BlueDragonArcher:** with as much as you write, knowing what’s going on in one scene or arc is not going to spoil the whole story for me

> **HighNoon:** guess you’re right  
>  **HighNoon:** i’m getting into the part of the story where theyre getting close to confessing feelings  
>  **HighNoon:** but i’ve strayed a little from my outline and the scenario id planned doesn’t make as much sense anymore

> **BlueDragonArcher:** how so?

> **HighNoon:** characters are being stubborn and not communicating. i think the one hasn’t even figured out what exactly hes feeling yet

> **BlueDragonArcher:** they’re not communicating with each other?

> **HighNoon:** nah. i had planned on having them talk more openly by this point but it just didn’t happen  
>  **HighNoon:** and i don’t want to have to fix it by adding a bunch of extra dialogue or exposition or something cause that’ll just mess up the flow

> **BlueDragonArcher:** do either of them have someone else they can confide in?  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** someone they’re close to who can see what’s going on even if the main character doesn’t?

> **HighNoon:** yeah actually  
>  **HighNoon:** hadn’t been thinking about it because that character is off somewhere right now  
>  **HighNoon:** but since you suggested it i think itll work better for me to massage their timeline so i can add in that one conversation when i need it instead of trying to re-work everything the two mains are doing  
>  **HighNoon:** thanks sugar!

\-----

> **HighNoon:** I can't believe you're taking 3 math classes

> **BlueDragonArcher:** it seemed like a good idea at the time

> **HighNoon:** still seem like a good idea?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** not at the moment

> **HighNoon:** you're a glutton for punishment

> **BlueDragonArcher:** it seems so. how are your classes going?

> **HighNoon:** ended up taking journalism. its pretty cool. different than writing fic. history is good, dont wanna talk about math, took spanish to boost my gpa in case of math  
>  **HighNoon:** fanfics are on hold since i finished that one i was in the middle of when we started talkin. gotta start on my scholarship writing

> **BlueDragonArcher:** i’m excited to finally get to read it this weekend  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** how is the search going? Have you found something you qualify for?

> **HighNoon:** one or two but theyre small. most of them i can't apply for because i don't live in the right place, i'm not already in college, i'm not pursuing the right career, or i'm not a girl. there's a lot of writing scholarships for girls  
>  **HighNoon:** not that thats bad it just doesn't help me.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** are there scholarships not specifically for writing you can apply for?

> **HighNoon:** yeah, fafsa apps open next month and im looking at some other stuff. my english teacher offered to send some things my way

> **BlueDragonArcher:** what is a fafsa?

> **HighNoon:** an application for government money for school. some of it's loans tho

> **BlueDragonArcher:** you don't want loans?

> **HighNoon:** nah. scared i won't be able to repay them

> **BlueDragonArcher:** oh

Hanzo sat chewing on his lip after Jesse had signed off some time later, thinking about what his friend had said. He honestly couldn’t relate to some of Jesse’s concerns regarding his future: for Hanzo, the path ahead of him had been laid out, money had always been there, and it seemed like it always would be. He had known, in some abstract way, that this was not the case for everyone, but it was strange actually knowing someone who lived with the sort of uncertainty that Jesse seemed to. It made him uneasy, and anxious for his friend’s well-being when he thought about it, a heavy, buzzing feeling in his gut that felt strangely like guilt.

What would it be like to live that sort of life? Hanzo didn’t want to find out.

\-------

Jesse wound through the halls, smiling at everyone he passed with a nod or a wave. Most of the time, they smiled or waved back.

It was easiest to be friendly, to be known for that one trait specifically. So the lonelier Jesse had gotten, the friendlier he had become. Someone in freshman year -- he couldn’t for the life of him remember who -- had said it best, he supposed: “Y’know, McCree, you’re a nice guy. Everybody likes you. But, like, nobody _knows_ you. Makes it kinda’ hard to be your friend.” 

Jesse couldn’t argue the logic, but it had still hurt a little to hear, even if he’d done it to himself. As a senior, there was no point in changing it now, especially after the accident. He’d smiled a lot more at school since then.

“Hey, McCree!”

Jesse’s head whipped around to see who was talking to him and he paused: Trevor Bakers had started on the football team with him freshman year, and they had spent a lot of time warming the bench together that first season. Unlike Jesse, however, Trevor was still on the team. “Hey there, Bakers. What’s goin’ on?”

“Coming out to the game on Saturday? It’s at home.” Trevor stood with his hands in his pockets, wearing his confidence as easily as he wore his letterman’s jacket. Jesse cringed inwardly at the question but didn’t stop smiling.

“Naw, can’t make it this week. Good luck, though.” Jesse hadn’t made it any week yet this year. Or last year, either, for that matter. The last game he had attended was the final one of his sophomore season, sitting on the bench because he was still part of the team back then, even if he couldn’t play. He hadn’t had the heart to go since.

“Hey, thanks man. Maybe next time.” Trevor gave a wave as he turned away, smile no longer reaching his eyes. “See you around.”

“Yeah, see ya’ around.” Jesse continued toward his Spanish class, nodding at the girl that sat next to him in trigonometry on the way. He couldn’t wait until football season was over. 

\-------

“I’ve gone ahead and assigned you your partners for this project, due at midterm. You’ll find the project description in your syllabus, which is not my job to read to you. You may leave once you’ve found your partner.”

Hanzo groaned inwardly as Dr. Stephenson began to pass out partner assignments. He hated group projects: there was always at least one person in the group that didn’t pull their weight, and he was the one who ended up picking up the slack. 

A sheet of paper was dropped unceremoniously on his desk, and he picked it up to discover what his fate would be. His partner had better not be that loud guy who always sat in the back corner with a bag of chips, because Hanzo was borderline ready to murder him just having to listen to his inane questions and constant crunching.

Satya Vaswani. Well, it wasn’t the loud guy. Hanzo turned around to scan the room, not sure who Satya Vaswani was -- perhaps he should make at least a token effort to learn some of his classmates’ names. There were two women who looked like they might be a Satya, and one of them was already talking animatedly with a redheaded girl that had sat down next to her. The other was casting her eyes around the room much like he was.

Hanzo had just stood to walk over and ask if she was his partner when her eyes met his, and she had the sort of look about her that suggested she had decided that he was the only potential ‘Hanzo Shimada’ in the class. She nodded once, then picked up her things to meet him on the way out of the room.

‘Probably Satya’ paused in the doorway. “You are Hanzo Shimada, correct?” she asked, holding her books stiffly to her chest. One hand was an intricate-looking prosthetic; he couldn’t tell how high it went with her long sleeves.

“Yes. Satya Vaswani?” 

Satya nodded in response, then turned to start walking. “I am pleased that you are not the serial potato chip eater,” she commented as Hanzo fell into step next to her, sounding so serious that he nearly laughed.

“I was thinking the same of you,” he said instead. “Have you looked over the assignment yet?”

“It will take us the majority of the term, assuming we both contribute equally and do not take up residence in the library.”

“I’d rather not take up residency, but perhaps we should go now so that we can decide how we want to approach the project.”

“That sounds excellent,” Satya said with a slight smile, and Hanzo hoped that the two of them would see eye to eye this well for the rest of the term.

\-------

The phantom pains were back. 

It was the anniversary of the accident and Jesse was trying to forget about it while at work, focusing on restocking those little treat pouches people hid their dogs’ medicines in. It wasn’t funny that the harder he tried to put it out of his mind, the more he couldn’t help thinking about it. 

Jesse wasn’t prepared for the way the burning pain shot up where his arm should have been, despite having experienced it plenty before: he dropped the packets he was holding with a hiss, reflexively grabbing at his stump as he went down on a knee. His eyes stung, and he clenched his teeth as he rode it out, breath panting and irregular. Hopefully, no one would come down his aisle for anything.

His luck held, and he was able to finish the carton he was emptying with shaking fingers. 

Twenty minutes until his shift was over, and then it would be alright. The walk home would be in twilight, and he could figure out what to do when he got home on the way.

\-------

Jesse managed to make it through dinner without any pain, and up to his room right afterward citing a headache. He doubted he really fooled Ana, though, even if she didn’t say anything right then.

At least if something happened while he was talking to Hanzo, there would be only a long pause in the chat to give him away, and there were a hundred possible excuses for that. He feared the onset of night, but he’d deal with it, just like he always had.

\-------

Ana pounded on the door twice before letting herself in; Jesse hadn’t been able to fully stifle the scream as he woke from a nightmare about crunching metal and breaking glass to stabbing and fire in a limb that wasn’t there. Shaking and clutching his stump, he had been gathered in her arms with his head resting on her shoulder before he was even cognizant, rocked like he was twelve again and having night terrors about a different trauma entirely.

Chewing his lip, Jesse tried to distract himself from one pain with another as his tears soaked the front of Ana’s nightshirt. It finally passed, and he relaxed, exhausted, against her chest.

“Sorry t’wake ya,” he murmured, moving to sit up.

She held him fast. “Do not be sorry, habibi. How long has this been going on?”

“Jes’ today. Only once before this.” 

“Do you think you will be able to go back to sleep?” Ana asked softly, stroking a lock of hair away from his sweaty brow.

“Yeah, ‘m real tired.”

Taking gentle hold of his chin, Ana searched Jesse’s face to determine whether he was actually likely to doze off, or if he was just trying not to be a bother. Satisfied, she kissed his forehead and let him lay back down. He was asleep before she even drew the tangled covers back over him.

\-------

The days that followed weren’t so bad: Jesse was able to get through the waves of pain with a clenched jaw as they came less and less often, and if anyone at school noticed, they didn’t say anything. The one time Maggie caught him at work, he was able to play it off as having hit his prosthetic on something and badly jarring the stump.

The nights were worse, but at least he managed not to scream.

\-------

Jesse was still tired from the week before -- the pains had subsided, so that was in his favor -- but this week was trying in a different sort of way. The sort where Jesse was sure that his teachers had conspired to have all of their first large assignments due at the same time, at least three people per day had asked him if he was going to the football game on Saturday (why did they keep doing that?), and he had had to hurry from school to work twice in the afternoons because Oscar had been out sick and Jackson had called him up pleading for him to cover part of the shift. On top of that, Jesse seemed to have caught a minor bug himself: he had suffered a sinus headache for two days running and Miss Mead had fussed over him like he was some fragile thing when she caught him sneezing a single time in the hallway. 

> **HighNoon:** is it friday yet?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** sorry, it’s still wednesday. another rough day?

> **HighNoon:** yeah  
>  **HighNoon:** Price threw a pop quiz at us an Miss Mead’s still treatin me like i’m made of glass  
>  **HighNoon:** i’m not even in her class this year

> **BlueDragonArcher:** why does she do that?

Jesse debated with himself over how to answer that one.

> **HighNoon:** i was one of her favorite students freshman year and was in her class again sophomore  
>  **HighNoon:** still looked like hell when i came back to school after the accident and i think it shook her a little  
>  **HighNoon:** she’s an older lady. i get the feelin she’s seen some stuff  
>  **HighNoon:** and she’s got no kids so she uses up her motherin on students she likes

> **BlueDragonArcher:** that makes sense  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** anything else bothering you?

> **HighNoon:** just a bunch of little stupid stuff. no need to worry over it

> **BlueDragonArcher:** its not stupid if its bothering you  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** you don’t have to go into it if you dont want but i’ll listen if you do  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** sometimes it helps to just vent a little

Sitting back in his chair, Jesse closed his eyes for just a moment. He was so tired. His shoulders were tight, his head hurt. Maybe it would be alright if he did vent a little, just this once. Not everything -- last week’s specific problem was his thing to deal with on his own. 

> **HighNoon:** eh, it’s just a whole lot of little things i guess  
>  **HighNoon:** the tired and the not feeling well and the extra shifts and the kids at school  
>  **HighNoon:** plus i ran out of gum before third period and forgot my backup so i was gettin antsy  
>  **HighNoon:** that kinda sucked

> **BlueDragonArcher:** gum?

> **HighNoon:** chewin on somethin helps me when im stressed  
>  **HighNoon:** its weird i know  
>  **HighNoon:** but gums the easiest thing

> **BlueDragonArcher:** its not weird. i drink even more tea than usual when i get stressed.  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** one time during exams i drank so much that i couldn’t eat  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** so I get it

Hanzo seemed to be in one of his question-asking moods, and Jesse was grateful he didn’t ask about why he tended to chew on things like Jesse had expected him to. While he didn’t want to lie about it, he didn’t want to go into his pre-teen smoking habit either: it would probably lead to more questions that would take the conversation where he definitely didn’t want it to go. Easier to avoid the whole thing.

> **HighNoon:** so how was your day?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** it was fine. I’m just worried about you. how are you feeling, by the way?

> **HighNoon:** i can only halfway breathe through one side of my nose, so i’ve got that dry throat thing going on from breathin through my mouth all the time  
>  **HighNoon:** and i still can’t shake this sinus headache

> **BlueDragonArcher** : did you take something for it?

> **HighNoon:** for the headache a couple times. it helps a little. were out of sinus stuff though and i haven’t gotten a chance to get more  
>  **HighNoon:** don’t want to bother ana with it

> **BlueDragonArcher:** why not?

> **HighNoon:** just don’t like to be a bother

A different kind of ache settled between Jesse’s shoulders and down his back at the memory that flitted to the forefront of his brain. He suppressed a shudder as he pushed it away, but it left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** Jesse.

> **HighNoon:** ill be okay. i’m usually real healthy, so itll probably be better in a couple more days  
>  **HighNoon:** anyway, i’m real beat

> **BlueDragonArcher:** you should get some rest. Sleep well and i’ll talk to you tomorrow. message me if you need anything

> **HighNoon:** thanks Han. Night.

Jesse dragged himself through his evening routine, brushing his teeth and taking off his arm in slow motion. Maybe he shouldn’t have let himself vent: he trusted Hanzo, but apparently couldn’t trust himself not to let too much slip. His brain was a traitor, and now he felt bad for leaving abruptly on top of being sick and achy and exhausted.

Well, there was nothing for it now. Maybe he’d drop a message before he headed out in the morning so that Hanzo wouldn’t think he was avoiding talking to him, and hopefully there wouldn’t be too many more questions.

\-------

Hanzo re-read the conversation for the third time, unable to keep from worrying. Something was definitely up with his friend, more than what he was letting on: Jesse normally didn’t jump around a conversation that badly, and there had been a lot of long pauses in strange places. Then again, that had happened a few times last week, too. Jesse had always had an excuse, but that’s exactly what they felt like: excuses.

Chewing his lip and tapping his pen on the rim of his teacup, Hanzo mulled over Jesse’s words a little longer before returning to his homework. He supposed Jesse would open up when he wanted to, and not a moment before. 

\-------

“Mechanics and whatever sounds gross. Are you sure you actually enjoy this stuff? Or are you trying to torture yourself?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh and propped his phone up to his ear with his shoulder so that he had both hands free to fold his laundry. He hadn’t known that grapefruit-scented detergent was a thing before last week, but his nose was glad it was. “Yes, Genji, I really do. What about your classes? Is there anything interesting going on?”

There was a groan from Genji’s end. “Ms. Ferrier keeps trying to get me to take French, and I’m like, ‘why French?’ and she’s all ‘cause you seem like you ought to enjoy the language of love.’ I’m not taking French. It’s, like, I already know two languages, so just … why? Not like I need help getting dates.”

Setting the folded towel to the side to start on his shirts, Hanzo snorted. “Speaking of dates, how is Melissa doing?”

“Oh, we’re not dating anymore. I asked out Brandon Petrocelli.”

The flippant comment made Hanzo pause, blinking. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. “When did this happen?”

“Ehhhhhh, yesterday?”

“Both breaking up with Melissa and asking out Brandon, or just asking out Brandon?”

“Just asking out Brandon. Melissa and I broke up on Monday. I think she’s with Forrest now.”

“Congratulations on making it an entire 48 hours as a single person.” Hanzo couldn’t keep the blatant sarcasm from his voice, and didn’t really bother to try. “To both of you, I guess.”

Genji laughed, and Hanzo could imagine him throwing his head back while he did it. He smiled despite himself.

“Brandon is a good kisser.”

Well, _that_ had come entirely unprompted. “I _really_ don’t want to hear about what kind of kisser Brandon is.” Hanzo rolled his eyes again as Genji huffed.

“Fine, then. What about you? Are you dating the guy you say isn’t your boyfriend yet?”

“No, or I wouldn’t be saying he isn’t my boyfriend, now would I?” Hanzo answered, suddenly on the defensive as he aggressively paired his socks.

“At least tell me something about him.”

Hanzo hesitated at that. He actually did want to talk about Jesse, he realized, and he didn’t really have anyone else to talk about him to.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m still here.” Hanzo bit his lip. “His name is Jesse,” he started hesitantly.

“Where’d you meet?” Genji prompted, sounding delighted that Hanzo was actually talking.

“Online. I had been reading some of his writing.”

“Waaaaiiit. Did you meet him on that fanfic site you think I don’t know you go to? Does he write fanfiction?”

Hanzo nearly choked. “He writes Westerns.”

“Western fan fiction, I bet.”

“...yeah.”

Genji cackled and Hanzo ground his teeth in irritation, his ears hot as he shoved his folded laundry in the basket to take to his room. “Do you actually want to know about him or are you just looking for ammunition to tease me with?” he demanded.

“No, no, I really want to know. You already know most of the people I date since they’re from school, so I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here.” Genji sighed in the way people do when they’re trying to finish laughing. “So is he from Texas?”

“New Mexico. He’s a high school senior but already has a job, and enjoys hiking and seems to do a lot of things with his family.” Hanzo smiled into his phone, his mind wandering to their daily conversations, and how Jesse always seemed to be on when he needed to talk. “He’s … really sweet. And funny, and hard working, and he makes the most atrocious sandwiches.”

“You sound like you really like this guy,” Genji said, humming thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Genji sounded incredibly smug. “Your gay crush is painfully obvious.”

Hanzo groaned and hung up on his brother, maniacal giggling ringing in his ears.

\-------

Jesse closed the freezer after filling his glass with ice and did a double-take at the calendar on the refrigerator door.

"Ana, what's all this?" he asked with no little suspicion, squinting at the entry for the following Sunday morning.

"What is all what?" Ana didn't even turn away from the recipe she had been poring over, and her tone of voice told Jesse that she knew exactly what was all what.

Jesse heaved an exaggerated sigh and ran some water in his glass. "Senior portraits? Really?"

"Thomas' mother was kind enough to inform me that the yearbook deadline was coming up when I ran into her at the bank." Rejecting the recipe she had been reading, Ana slipped it back into the card box and selected another before looking up at Jesse. Her lips were pressed together with an air of exasperation. "As you seem to have neglected to mention it, I set up the appointment for you."

"Neglected t'mention it for a reason," Jesse grumbled.

"You have not had photos taken in a year and a half."

"Reason for that, too."

"I already paid for the sitting, Jesse." Her tone brooked no argument.

"Awwwww, dangit, Ana!" Jesse huffed with a full-body eyeroll: even if it had been up for negotiation, Jesse would never back out on something that had already been paid for, and Ana knew it. He was stuck.

Ana's face softened and she smiled, knowing she had won. "Do not worry, habibi. They will make sure some are posed so that your prosthetic is not visible." Jesse relaxed only slightly at that. "You should wear your favorite shirt; you look good in red," she added. "You may bring your hat if you like, but not that atrocious belt buckle you got from Gabriel."

\-------

> **HighNoon** : Ana made me take senior photos

> **BlueDragonArcher** : Is that a bad thing?

> **HighNoon** : not as bad as I expected, I guess. it was outside

> **BlueDragonArcher** : That seems fitting for you. Did they come out well?

> **HighNoon** : haven't seen them yet.

> **BlueDragonArcher** : Mine were all studio portraits, except a few Mother wanted done in traditional dress  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : most of them were quite stiff

> **HighNoon** : ha, not mine  
>  **HighNoon** : the photographer was kinda funny. called my hair artfully untidy and may have made it artfully untidier  
>  **HighNoon** : she also made me do the Most Interesting Man in the World meme pose

> **BlueDragonArcher** : what does that even mean?  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : oh no, really?

> **HighNoon** : but you know the funniest part?

> **BlueDragonArcher** : what?

> **HighNoon** : so Ana didn't spend much time reading reviews online cause she just wanted pictures, right?  
>  **HighNoon** : most of the photographers were full with last-minute shoots so i'm pretty lucky she didn't try to pull me out of class for it  
>  **HighNoon** : anyway, she makes the appointment with this lady, and we get there and get started and it turns out that her usual gig is cover photography for romance novels

Hanzo nearly spit his seltzer over his phone screen, doubling up with laughter and ending up in the middle of a coughing fit with carbonation up his nose. It took him a moment to recover enough to see what else Jesse had to say.

> **HighNoon** : i thought Ana was going to die

> **BlueDragonArcher** : you nearly killed me too just now!  
>  **BlueDragonArcher** : i have to see these when they come back

> **HighNoon** : i make no promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trying to learn laundry from Instructables is not recommended: the writer was apparently a condescending wank. The one at WikiHow was much better. XD  
> *Jesse's stuff having to do with Santa Fe Community College was supposed to go differently, until _I_ looked it up and found that it wasn't going to fly. Research, my dudes.  
>  *Miss Mead was the name of my first grade teacher (rest her soul). She definitely dressed like that and babied her favorite students, but didn't wear thick glasses.  
> *[Drizzerey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzerey/pseuds/Drizzerey) drew [this picture of one of Jesse's senior portraits](https://drizzerey.tumblr.com/post/175560038382/tevokkia-is-writing-a-mchanzo-fanfic-and-there) for me while she was pre-reading for me. Go and love it!


	4. Reach Out and Touch Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some family drama leads to a whole new form of communication.

By the time Hanzo and Jesse had been chatting for a month and a half, they knew each other’s schedules as well as they knew their own. So well, in fact, that it was less than two minutes after school let out that Jesse’s phone buzzed with a message and it didn’t surprise him in the least.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** i think you gave me your cold

> **HighNoon:** you mean the one that i had last month?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** yes. that one.

> **HighNoon:** well damn, guess it was so virulent i infected the internet. surprised the whole school didn’t come down w the plague  
>  **HighNoon:** took its sweet time gettin to you  
>  **HighNoon:** how you feeling?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** like my head is building up to explode and I cant breathe

> **HighNoon:** yuck, hope it blows over fast  
>  **HighNoon:** guess i don’t have to tell you to drink lots of hot tea  
>  **HighNoon:** should probably take some cold medicine though

> **BlueDragonArcher:** lol no you don’t

\-------

Hanzo’s phone vibrated while he was sluggishly taking notes in his relativity class, and he flipped it over to find a photo of dozens of pumpkins atop bales of hay in his chat screen, a slightly lopsided scarecrow rising up behind them.

> **HighNoon:** look at all these pumpkins  
>  **HighNoon:** theres like a million of them  
>  **HighNoon:** and you know who had arrange most of them?  
>  **HighNoon:** this guy

> **BlueDragonArcher:** and the scarecrow?

> **HighNoon:** yeah, that too  
>  **HighNoon:** maggie and fidel helped a little  
>  **HighNoon:** that’s my hat it’s wearin

> **BlueDragonArcher:** your head must be lonely

> **HighNoon:** nah my hats been liberated. found it a new one  
>  **HighNoon:** oh shit you’re in class now  
>  **HighNoon:** sorry darlin talk to you later  
>  **HighNoon:** hope your feeling better

Hanzo stifled a laugh, then a cough, and set his phone face down once more so he could turn his full attention back to the front of the room. He always felt better talking to Jesse, even if I didn’t do much for his sinuses.

\-------

Jesse had headed up to his room a little after dinner was finished and the dishes done, when Fareeha had already retreated to play her video game and Ana had busied herself doing whatever it was that Ana did at her laptop. He probably had about twenty minutes worth of homework left to do before he could chat with Hanzo, and he wanted to get finished so that he could make sure his friend was taking care of himself.

Fortunately, today’s Spanish homework was easy, mostly things Jesse had been doing for years, and he breezed through with only a quick grammar check afterward.

> **HighNoon:** you on darlin?

There was no immediate response, so Jesse popped out of his room to refill his water glass while he waited, returning just in time to catch “BlueDragonArcher is typing …” pop up in the chat window. 

> **BlueDragonArcher:** i just got in

> **HighNoon:** how you feelin?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** about the same

> **HighNoon:** got some tea?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** not yet, i’m making some  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** figuring out what i want for dinner

> **HighNoon:** got any soup? probably the best thing for you right now

There were a few minutes without a reply, which Jesse spent checking his email. He figured that Hanzo probably either needed to go check whether he had soup on hand, was putting his tea together, or both.

> **BlueDragonArcher:** i forgot i had some instant miso. it actually sounds really good about now

> **HighNoon:** glad i could be of assistance :)

They didn’t chat quite as long as usual; Hanzo was slow to reply as they caught each other up on their days, even after he finished drinking his soup, two cups of tea, and the glass of juice that Jesse insisted he needed for the vitamins.

> **HighNoon:** you seem real tired, sugar  
>  **HighNoon:** maybe you should head off to get some rest

> **BlueDragonArcher:** its still a little early …

> **HighNoon:** i know, but you wanna get over this bug real fast

> **BlueDragonArcher:** you are like a mother hen :)  
>  **BlueDragonArcher:** but your right, i am tired

> **HighNoon:** you go on and get some sleep then  
>  **HighNoon:** night darlin

> **BlueDragonArcher:** goodnight

> **HighNoon:** hope tomorrow is a better day

\-------

> **HighNoon:** hey your on later than normal. busy day?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** rough day

> **HighNoon:** what happened?

> **BlueDragonArcher:** its alot to type

There was no reply right away, and Hanzo felt his insides turn to ice. He was mere seconds from laying his head on his desk and closing the app when “HighNoon is typing….” blinked across the bottom of the window and a single line of text practically stopped his heart.

> **HighNoon:** want me to call you?

Hanzo stared at the screen for what seemed like hours, a spark of gratitude trying to warm the sense of impending doom that had solidified in his gut. Finally, he reached over to tap out his phone number: the phone did not ring immediately after the message sent, but very close to it. He fumbled the first time he tried to answer, his hands were shaking so badly, sniffling as he brought it to his ear. 

“Hello?” Hanzo hadn’t realized how hoarse and scratchy and entirely nasal his voice had gotten, and he tried to clear his throat. 

“Hey there darlin’, what’s troublin’ ya?”

Hanzo inhaled sharply -- the voice on the other end of the line was warm and gentle, filled with concern. He probably should have expected the bit of a drawl but was blindsided nonetheless, stammering and letting out a cough before managing to find his voice.

“It’s a long story.” He dragged himself into the kitchen -- talking about this day was going to require tea.

“I’m alright with long stories; take your time. Y’sound like you still don’t feel well.”

“I don’t.” Hanzo filled the kettle and set it on the stove, leaning against the counter while he waited for his water to warm. He heaved a sigh that sounded shaky even to him -- it was going to take him a few moments to mentally shuffle the events of the day into some semblance of sense so he could tell Jesse what was going on. 

“Still there, Han?” Jesse asked when he hadn’t said anything else after awhile. “Need some time?”

“No, I - I think I’ve got it.” With a last congested sigh, Hanzo began before his resolve could waver. “I was talking with my brother this morning … he was teasing me about having ‘a big gay crush’ on someone … and his timing could not possibly have been worse because that’s when Mother came home. It was a video call, so … yeah.” He paused and slid down the cabinets to sit on the floor with his head slumping forward, Jesse making a sympathetic noise on his end of the phone. “It was really quiet for a minute, then Mother took the phone from Genji and asked me what I had to say about it, and there was no point in lying so I just … told her. She just made that ‘hmmmm’ sound she does sometimes and handed Genji back the phone.”

“Oh, wow, that’s rough, darlin’. She didn’t say anythin’ else?”

“No. She didn’t.” Hanzo’s voice seemed very small indeed. He felt very small, curling in on himself and tangling the fingers of his free hand in his hair. “Genji and I fought after that. I hung up on him. I know he didn’t mean to let it slip and that he felt bad but I was just so angry. I’m still angry,” he added. “But I’m more scared. I haven’t spoken to Genji or Mother again yet, but Father texted me that he was flying down here this weekend.”

“Oh shit … ya’ don’t think he’s gonna do somethin’, do ya?” A note of alarm underlined the concern in Jesse’s voice, and Hanzo could hear the faint crumpling of paper on his end. He let his head fall against the cabinet with a dull thud, ignoring the bubbling tea kettle.

“I … I don’t know. I just .... I panicked. Literally panicked. I broke down right where I was and missed both of my evening classes and ... “ Hanzo trailed off with a whimper, his throat constricting as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Hey … hey there, stay with me, Han.” Jesse’s voice was grounding, keeping Hanzo from straying too far into his own head. “Focus on breathin’. You got any tea made?”

“I have hot water,” Hanzo sniffed.

“Pour yourself a cup an’ then tell me what you’re feelin’,” Jesse instructed soothingly. Hanzo slowly unwrapped himself from his ball on the floor and stood, his hands shaking a little less than they had been as he performed the familiar ritual.

“Got your tea?”

Hanzo nodded, then remembered that Jesse couldn’t see him and made a noise in the affirmative.

“So first thing: are ya safe?”

Not expecting the question, Hanzo paused: why wouldn’t he be …? It didn’t take long for plenty of reasons to crowd into his foggy mind. He couldn’t see his father doing any of them. Probably.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said finally, and heard Jesse exhale as though he had been holding his breath.

“Alright sugar. So how you feelin’ now?”

“I’m still really nervous and I feel nauseous,” Hanzo murmured, shuffling into the living room and carefully lowering himself onto the couch so as not to upset the cup of tea. Once there, he drew his knees up to his chest, nestling his legs into his oversized sweater. “There was a test in one of the classes I missed.”

“Go on and talk to th’ teacher tomorrow; tell em’ you had a panic attack and don’t be ashamed to say it, see if they’ll let you take it later. M’friend Angie says some teachers are good about that.”

Hanzo hummed into his teacup. “Thanks, I’ll try. And … I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry ‘bout what, sugar?”

“It’s the first time we’ve gotten to talk and I’m over here freaking out. I feel bad. I haven’t asked you about your day or anything.”

“Aw, don’t worry about me.” There was a soft chuckle in Jesse’s voice. “My day wasn’t much to speak of, except talkin’ to you. I’m jes’ sorry you’re having such a rough time of it. Anything I can do?” he asked, his tone sobering.

“No, just … thanks for listening. It helps. So does hearing you.”

“Glad I can help.” There was a long pause. “It’s pretty late. Want me to talk to ya’ until ya’ fall asleep? That used t’help me.”

“I … you ....” Hanzo faltered, torn between not wanting to put Jesse out and desperately wanting the comfort, warmth already blossoming in his chest at the offer. “Yes, please … that would be nice,” he murmured after another moment of hesitation.

So Jesse talked, his voice low and warm and soothing, flitting from one topic to the next with only small pauses in between. Hanzo listened as he finished his tea, letting the sound wash over him and loosen some of the knots of anxiety. He sighed through descriptions of the wilderness preserve Jesse hiked through in the spring and the way the sagebrush smelled in the summer, and plodded off to his room while Jesse told him about the folk art market in Santa Fe, nestling into the covers without bothering to get undressed. By the time Jesse moved on to describing the farmer’s market he occasionally visited with his family, Hanzo was beginning to doze, drifting off with barely-heard goodnight.

\-------

“Oh shit … ya’ don’t think he’s gonna do somethin’, do ya?” Jesse’s heart lurched at the mention of Hanzo’s father heading down to California for an impromptu visit -- he didn’t know the man at all, but Jesse’s own experiences had him imagining all sorts of scenes that ended with his friend being left black and blue at the very least. There were a lot of horror stories out there about... He unwrapped a piece of gum and shoved in into his mouth to help him focus.

“I … I don’t know. I just .... I panicked. Literally panicked. I broke down right where I was and missed both of my evening classes and ... “ Poor Hanzo sounded terrible and Jesse didn’t blame him: he knew those feelings intimately.

“Hey … hey there, stay with me, Han.” Jesse swallowed his own anxiety on Hanzo’s behalf: the most important thing right now was how his friend was feeling. “Focus on breathin’. You got any tea made?”

Jesse could hear Hanzo sniffling as he confirmed he had hot water, and waited as patiently as he could considering the sudden knot of anxiety in his stomach while Hanzo put his tea together.

“So first thing: are ya safe?” He couldn’t help holding his breath as he waited for Hanzo to answer the question, and it only became worse as the seconds ticked by without a response.

“Yeah, I think so,” Hanzo said finally, and Jesse let out the held breath, closing his eyes in relief. It wasn’t the most positive answer, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he would have done had the answer been “no.”

“Alright sugar. So how you feelin’ now?”

Hanzo described his nerves and his missed classes, and Jesse helped the best he could. He hadn’t expected the apology that came next, but he should have: it’s exactly what he would have done.

“Anything I can do?” he asked once he had assured Hanzo that he didn’t mind a bit.

“No, just … thanks for listening. It helps. So does hearing you.”

“Glad I can help.” Jesse didn’t want to leave it like that: his friend needed him … needed something at least. Even if Hanzo didn’t know what that something was. “It’s pretty late. Want me to talk to ya’ until ya’ fall asleep? That used ta help me.”

It had helped, when Jesse first came to live with Ana, skittish and affection-starved and prone to horrific nightmares. A familiar ache settled in his breast at the memory of those nights he had awakened terrified and disoriented or couldn’t sleep because he was afraid to close his eyes. She had held him back then, telling him old fables, or about where she grew up in Egypt, or her travels in Canada, talking until he dozed. It was the least he could do for Hanzo: even if no one was there to hold him, at least he knew wasn’t alone.

Jesse told Hanzo about some of the most beautiful things he could think of: vivid descriptions of the nature around Santa Fe, and the native art, and whatever else came to mind that seemed as though it would be calming. He could faintly hear Hanzo moving about for the first few minutes before he seemed to settle in, listening awhile more before murmuring a quiet “Night …”

“Night Han,” Jesse answered gently, and waited a few more minutes for a reply before hanging up. It was late, and he should get to bed too. Still, he couldn’t completely wash the scenarios he had imagined earlier from his head, and uneasiness chewed at his gut. _Was_ Hanzo in danger?

Jesse would have to content himself with checking up on Hanzo throughout the day tomorrow. His panic tonight could have been a gut reaction to the situation, which was understandable. Hanzo obviously knew his family better than Jesse did: if he seemed better the next day, he was probably safe enough like he had said, facing an argument at most. If he was still in a bad way tomorrow, though, there was probably cause to worry and Jesse should start considering … something. An action plan. He didn’t even know.

Unable to do anything else at the moment, Jesse settled down for a fitful night’s sleep.

\-------

The world came back into focus in degrees: first, Hanzo registered the scratchy, swollen throat that usually came with breathing through the mouth all night and the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat all over his body. Then came the realization that he was still breathing through his mouth, his nose completely stopped up. It was brighter than it normally was when he woke. The crust clinging to his eyelids scratched and stung. He was still wearing last night’s sweater, a stripe of dried mucous decorating one sleeve. His phone was stuck to one grimy cheek, pressed against the pillow. It took several minutes of staring into the middle distance before any of it managed to completely penetrate the fog that was Hanzo’s brain that morning.

Suddenly he sat up. It was late. He was late. What day was it? Did he have class this morning? There was too much sun, the yellow halo glowing around the room’s heavy curtains. What had he been- 

The events of last night and the previous day hit Hanzo like a bullet, and he flopped back onto his sweaty pillow, breathing hard. Too many things at once -- he couldn’t focus. 

It was with a supreme effort of will that Hanzo managed to haul himself out of bed, haphazardly shedding yesterday’s clothes on his way into a hot shower. He would pick them up later. He took his time washing his long hair, letting the steam clear his sinuses as the layer of grime that was probably half imagined swirled down the drain with the soap suds. Hanzo tried to let his stress go with it, but with wakefulness came clarity and with clarity came far too many things to think about.

Leaning his forehead on the still-cool tile at the rear of the shower, Hanzo began examining the previous day with the soothing patter of hot water on his muscled back. He had fought with Genji. He was out to his parents. His father was flying down this weekend. He had spoken to Jesse on the phone…

Turning with a heavy sigh so that the water streamed down his chest instead, Hanzo closed his eyes. He was, as Genji would say, a hot mess: he had even gone so far as to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Gross.

Fighting with Genji he could live with: it wasn’t the first time, and they would make up when they were ready. He still felt terrible about taking his frustration out on his brother, but he had done a fair share of beating himself up over that yesterday. Not that Genji hadn’t deserved at least a little of what he got. 

His parents. Hanzo suppressed a shudder as he went about the slow business of actually washing his body. He didn’t fear his mother. Perhaps she was disappointed, but as much as that might hurt, the worst he would get from her would be some stern looks, a few exasperated sighs, and some pointed remarks.

Hanzo’s father was a different story entirely. Sojiro’s disappointment ran cold, manifesting in long lectures followed by stretches of silence that could last days -- weeks -- where as far as he was concerned, the subject of his ire was not even in the room. Hanzo had only been subject to it twice, and that had been more than enough.

Perhaps this time it wouldn’t be so bad, not sharing a home with his father. The thought didn’t curb the worry, however, and the insidious whisperings from his cousins in Japan about his father’s capability for icy brutality came back to haunt him, surfacing just as they had the night before.

No. His father wasn’t really like that. Hanzo had never seen him use any weapon more tangible than words. He didn’t need to: the words were enough.

The water had gone cold, and Hanzo begrudgingly turned it off, dragging himself out of the stall to dry himself, check the time, and see if he could salvage his school day. He didn’t have the energy to spare for dressing well: he could see the dark circles beneath his eyes while dragging a cursory brush through his hair, and winced. So much for trying to appear as though nothing was wrong.

Then again, nobody was likely to ask him.

Dressed in a pair of workout pants and the hoodie he jogged in when it was cold, Hanzo checked the time: he had missed his usual slot at the range by a few hours, but actually still had enough time for a cup of tea and an egg or something before his first class. He pointedly ignored the text message waiting for him for a few minutes, not wanting to ruin his semblance of calm as he padded out to the kitchen to start his tea. Eventually, though, he figured he ought to just get it over with.

Hanzo didn’t recognize the number, and the message was nearly two hours old. He must have slept through the notification.

> **505-555-1200:** hey there darlin, you doin ok this morning?

Of course. Jesse. Hanzo sighed in relief and saved the number. 

> **To Jesse:** im alright. stressed and nervous but better than last night. thanks for talking me through all that

He barely had time to cringe at what Jesse must have thought about his whiny, panicked neediness last night before there was a reply.

> **From Jesse:** glad to hear it. i was getting worried i hadn’t heard back from you yet. and it’s nothin, anything you need darlin  
>  **From Jesse:** sleep alright?

> **To Jesse:** i slept. still feel like shit but that could be the head cold. i’ll be fine, thanks

> **From Jesse:** ok. im in class so i cant talk more but i’ll check in at lunch

> **To Jesse:** thanks, talk to you then

Hanzo smiled a little as he poured his tea water. Jesse was a good friend. He replayed what he could remember of last night’s conversation in his mind, holding on to the beautiful pictures Jesse had painted with his words as he talked Hanzo to sleep. His honeyed drawl and the casual way that ‘sugar’ and ‘darlin’ slipped through his lips gave Hanzo something to focus on other than his family problems as he made his breakfast, a different kind of buzz joining the nerves in his chest.

\-------

Jesse retreated from the cafeteria with his sandwich and water bottle, jogging across the campus to the alcove between the photography classrooms and the walkway toward the gym that he usually wedged himself into for lunch. Normally he would either be pulling his notebook out to scribble down some ideas or a scene that he just needed to get out, but today he had more pressing matters to tend to: Hanzo had seemed calm, if still sleepy, when he had messaged him that morning, but that could have changed once he finished waking up. 

> **To Hanzo:** how you doing?

> **From Hanzo:** about the same as this morning. still really nervous  
>  **From Hanzo:** but better. more awake

> **To Hanzo:** hear from anyone?

> **From Hanzo:** no

> **To Hanzo:** i don’t know how often you usually talk to your ma, but i bet genji is leaving you alone since you were fighting yesterday  
>  **To Hanzo:** maybe text him to try and make up if you’re up to it?  
>  **To Hanzo:** he might be able to tell you something about how your parents are acting

> **From Hanzo:** you’re right. I still feel bad for yelling at him  
>  **From Hanzo:** so how is your day going?

> **To Hanzo:** nothing exciting. having lunch now and going to journalism after  
>  **To Hanzo:** i’ve gotta start heading back, but i’ll text you again after class to see how you’re doin

> **From Hanzo:** thanks

Satisfied that his friend was not in imminent danger of a panic attack, Jesse dropped his phone into his lap and wolfed down the rest of his sandwich. Salami wasn’t his favorite, but the leftover koshary required utensils and he’d take what he could get. Finished, Jesse shoved his phone in his pocket and brushed bread crumbs off of his chest as he stood to gather his things, then loped off to the English wing before the halls got crowded.

\------

The phone rang three times before Genji picked up, the knot of anxiety rising higher in Hanzo’s throat with each successive ring.

“Hey.” Genji sounded wary.

“Hey,” Hanzo answered. “Genji … “ He hesitated, then sighed: he was always so bad at apologies, and the constant buzz of nerves in his gut wasn’t helping. The vague remnants of the smell of someone’s burnt popcorn in the mostly-deserted student lounge didn’t help either, turning his stomach. “Look, I’m … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, if I wasn’t teasing you Mom wouldn’t have found out like that.” Genji sounded genuinely remorseful. “But maybe you could have yelled at me less.” There was a beat of silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was small. “Are you still mad?”

Hanzo ran his fingers through his hair and leaned his head back in his chair. “I’m actually more scared.” That was an understatement. “Father’s coming down here.”

“I heard he was going,” Genji answered solemnly. “Did he say anything?”

“No, just forwarded his flight itinerary.”

“That’s Dad for you.”

“Has he or Mother said anything to you?” Hanzo bit his lip and waited; Genji’s answer would likely determine whether he continued his day with a low-key nervous agitation, or went back into full-blown panic mode. 

Genji hmmmed. He sounded just like their mother. “No, not to me. Mom seemed like she was pretending nothing had happened until Dad came home, and then they went off together after dinner. Not to Dad’s office,” he added hastily, knowing what Hanzo’s next question would be.

Hanzo exhaled heavily; he hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath, but it certainly felt like he had been doing so for a long time. This was good news, though. Conversations that took place between family members in Sojiro’s office generally meant Something Bad. “Thanks. Did you hear anything they talked about?”

There was an audible snort of disgust on the other end of the line. “Y’know, I totally tried to eavesdrop, but they were talking in their room, and you know how impossible it is to hear anything that goes on in there. Sorry, I know it sucks.”

“Well, it could be worse. I guess I’ll have to find out tomorrow.” A feeling of resignation washed over him, and Genji could probably hear it in his voice.

“You gonna be okay? You aren’t going to freak out, right?”

“No, I got that out of my system yesterday. Jesse called me last night to help calm me down.” Hanzo smiled a little in spite of himself.

“Oh my God, Hanzo. I could say so many things right now if I hadn’t lost the privilege to tease you this week.”

“I’m glad you’ve selected a suitable penance for yourself.” Hanzo glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to get off to economics though. Thanks, Genji. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye anija. It’ll be okay.”

\-------

Hanzo was having a late lunch in one of the cafes on campus: the one with the decent tea, not the cheap food service brand. He smiled when his phone vibrated: Jesse was supposed to get out of class around this time. 

> **From Jesse:** hey, how you doing?  
>  **From Jesse:** talk to genji?

> **To Jesse:** im alright. good enough to eat, so i’m getting some lunch  
>  **To Jesse:** and yes, I did. It helped

> **From Jesse:** glad to hear it darlin. to both  
>  **From Jesse:** only one class left, right?

> **To Jesse:** yes. then my partner and i need to do some work on our project

> **From Jesse:** you gonna be alright for that? able to focus and all?

> **To Jesse:** i’ll be fine. talking to Genji really did help. at least now i know it’s not as bad as it could have been

> **From Jesse:** thats good darlin. i’ll let ya finish your lunch  
>  **From Jesse:** give me a call when you’re all done for the day if you want  
>  **From Jesse:** or drop me a text or i’ll call you or whatever

> **To Jesse:** talk to you later

Hanzo sighed, gazing at his phone while he finished his turkey wrap and picked at the scant remains of his salad. Jesse was so sweet, and his concern all day was touching. The idea of getting to talk to him again -- really talk to him, not panic like a child over the phone while Jesse calmed him down -- helped curb the low-level anxiety he had been carrying around all day, and almost made this whole ordeal worth it. Almost.

\-------

Jesse slipped his phone back into his pocket, appeased. A crisp fall breeze ruffled his hair as he walked home, and he was glad he had actually remembered his jacket today. He had been distracted enough that morning to head out the door without it -- and without his lunch -- but the chill of the morning had managed to permeate his flannel enough after half a block of walking that he had ended up going back for both. 

Hanzo had seemed a little better each time they had spoken that day, so whatever his pa was likely to do when he went down there couldn’t be too bad. Nothing Hanzo would need an escape plan for. Still, Jesse couldn’t help but wonder how much stress his friend was under because of this: his own distraction had persisted enough that his teachers had remarked at three separate times during the day that he seemed to be lacking focus, and it wasn’t even technically his problem. Except that since it upset Hanzo, he had made it his problem. 

He reviewed their conversations in his head from last night and today one more time, if only to give him enough peace of mind to get his homework done. A detail stood out, one he had completely glossed over at the time. He stopped short, standing on the curb with his eyebrows knit and his mouth a thin line of consternation.

What crush had Genji been talking about?

Jesse resumed walking, teeth worrying at his lower lip. He knew he should get a piece of gum before he drew blood, but couldn’t be bothered with the heavy feeling that had settled in his chest, pressing a weight to his heart. It was a small weight, but it was there.

It felt a lot like envy.

Exhaling heavily, Jesse tried to let it go: he wasn’t even sure whether he was envious of Genji for knowing something like this that he didn’t, or of whoever Hanzo had taken a liking to. Probably someone in one of his classes. Either way, it wasn’t really Jesse’s business if Hanzo had chosen not to share. He was entitled to his privacy, and it wasn’t as though there weren’t things -- big things -- that Jesse had been keeping from him, too.

Besides, if Hanzo liked someone else, it was probably better that way. Jesse lived nowhere near him, and had approximately nothing to offer to a prospective boyfriend. He was actually probably in the negatives in that department, truth be told. 

That train of thought hurt more than it probably should have. 

So much for peace of mind. Jesse forced himself to stop again, get some gum out, and take a few breaths. This wasn’t the issue he should be focusing on right now. Hanzo was his friend, and he treasured that and wouldn’t give that friendship up for anything. Hanzo also had actual problems going on at the moment, problems that required the kind of support that Jesse could actually provide.

So what if they’d never be anything but friends? Jesse was going to be the best damn friend a guy could ask for.

\-------

The last of the late evening sun slanted in through the west-facing glass door as Hanzo sat curled in a blanket on the couch, an entire pot of tea at hand on the end table. He stared at his phone, not entirely sure whether he was willing it to ring, or if he was willing himself to gather the courage to pick it up and dial. One of them had to happen eventually.

The phone rang and Hanzo jumped out of his laser focus at the screen. He nearly fumbled it trying to answer before it rang a second time, biting his lip as he hit the ‘Accept’ button in a state of mingled joy and panic. 

“Hey,” he said, almost breathless.

“Hey,” Jesse said in return.

There was a second of quiet that seemed to last a decade.

Jesse cleared his throat, seeming to hesitate, and Hanzo’s heart was in his throat. “So how ya feelin’ t’night?”

“Better,” Hanzo answered, trying to sound less congested than he was. “I was looking forward to getting to talk to you more when I wasn’t in panic-mode.”

“Heh, yeah. Didn’t get t’hear much of that pretty voice o’ yours last night.”

Hanzo couldn’t help laughing, even if it came out as more of a cough. “I sound like death,” he croaked in protest, throat raw and face burning at the probably-unintentional flirting. 

“Bet I made ya’ smile though.” Jesse sounded amused, then cleared his throat again. “Glad you’re feelin’ better. I was worryin’ about ya’.”

“I’m sorry to make you worry.” This should have been easier, really. Conversation flowed so well between the the of them when they were typing. “How are you doing? I’ve hardly heard about you at all the past couple days.”

Jesse huffed a quiet laugh on his end. “Aw, like I told ya’ last night, sugar, not too much goin’ on with me right now. Did get a guy’s number, though,” he added slyly.

“You … did?” There was suddenly more than just the cough constricting Hanzo’s throat, and his voice was very small.

There was another beat of silence. 

“Yours, Hanzo.” Jesse seemed to realize how badly his joke had fallen flat. “I got _your_ number.”

Hanzo’s laugh was borderline hysterical with relief. “I’m sorry, my head’s still full of cotton.”

“Aw, it’s okay, sugar.” It sounded as though there was a smile in Jesse’s voice, no annoyance at Hanzo’s slowness whatsoever. Hanzo sighed quietly as his heart slowly stopped jumping around in his chest like a nervous rabbit. “You’re havin’ a rough time of it on top of not feelin’ well. Y’get t’be a little cloudy.”

“Thanks.”

Hanzo still wasn’t quite sure what else to say, between the newness of actually speaking and the smothering fog of yesterday’s events still clinging to every part of him. He wanted so badly to be interesting and engaging, to leave a good impression so that Jesse would want to talk like this more, but he just couldn’t summon the mental energy. Besides, knowing Jesse, he would be able to tell if Hanzo were performing.

“Well, ain’t we bein’ silly?” Jesse asked after another few moments of quiet. Hanzo wondered if he had been having the same troubles that he was. “Sittin’ here all quiet like a couple strangers.”

Hanzo almost snorted into his teacup. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We _are_ being a little silly.”

“So,” Jesse began again. “How’d your work on your project go, since y’said you were meetin’ up with your partner after your last class?” 

“Oh! It went well. Satya’s really focused, so I’m not doing it mostly on my own for once. It’ll still be awhile until we’re finished, but we’re on track.”

This was more familiar. Easier.

“Heh, sounds good. We just got a partner project today in Spanish, but we’re doin’ it all during class time. The girl I got … not sure what she’s doin’ in the AP class if she’s not gonna do the work. I get the feelin’ that I’m gonna be doin’ all the talkin’ during our presentation.”

“I hate that. I usually get those partners too.”

And just like that, everything felt like it was alright. The chattered back and forth about various group projects they had had to do, with partners that ranged from ‘A+’ to ‘relentless control freak’ to ‘hilariously incompetent in retrospect’ to ‘may as well have not been there.’ Conversation flowed as easily and as naturally as it normally did, only better: they didn’t have to wait while the other typed, and could genuinely hear the laughter they each brought the other.

\-------

Hanzo paced outside the airport terminal, waiting for his father to come through security. He had been there for nearly an hour, having arrived early in terror of being late, and had already fretted his way through three cups of what passed for tea at the nearby espresso cart. Jesse had sent him a text of encouragement that morning, and it was all Hanzo could do to keep his itchy hands from trying to text back again every five minutes or so. There was no use blowing up Jesse’s phone when he was at work and couldn’t answer anyway.

Finally, Hanzo spotted his father’s clipped, no-nonsense gait and ceased his pacing, standing with an outward appearance of calm and composure that he certainly was not feeling. His palms were sweaty, and if he hadn’t been trained for so many years to control his breathing, he would probably be hyperventilating right now. 

Sojiro slowed slightly as he passed through the gate and approached his son. He was not smiling, but neither was he frowning.

Hanzo bowed reflexively. “Greetings, Father.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, heart beating fast. His father nodded slightly.

“Come now Hanzo, no need for such formality.” Sojiro’s hand fell from Hanzo’s shoulder and Hanzo straightened, automatically falling in step beside his father as they headed toward the exit. “Let us stop for lunch. Surely you have a favorite place to eat by now.”

Conversation was scant and carefully neutral as they made their way out of the airport and waited for the valet to return with Hanzo’s car. Nothing changed while Hanzo drove from Oakland to Berkeley: Hanzo felt strange in the driver’s seat while Sojiro sat beside him, and he could feel his father’s eyes on him, judging his every minute movement. He didn’t dare turn on the radio, and the silence settled thick and stifling, an additional weight pulling his nerves taut to the point of breaking. 

They eventually parked at Ichiban, the second Japanese restaurant that Hanzo’s mother had dragged him to on their initial visit, and once they had been seated with cups of tea, Sojiro ordered for them both. 

“Hanzo. You seem tense.” The words came unexpectedly, and Hanzo abruptly stopped fidgeting under the table as Sojiro took a measured sip of tea, setting the cup down with excessive care and folding his hands in front of him. He looked at his son expectantly.

Tense was perhaps too mild. Hanzo wanted to scream.

“I am merely concerned about the reason for the sudden visit,” he said instead.

“I see.” Sojiro didn’t react as the server floated by their table to leave a dish of namasu in front of each of them. “I am told you had an interesting conversation with your mother,” he added mildly, picking up his chopsticks. Hanzo’s eye twitched, trying not to let it show that he was anything but collected as he tried to decipher his father’s too-calm tone. “Although it is not the first time the subject has been brought up.”

“I am sorry Father, I- wait, what?” Hanzo’s composure cracked, the emotions he had been trying to swallow shifting from apprehension to confusion, and he tried to hide it behind the gulp of tea he took to wash down the bile that had tried to rise in his throat. It was too hot and he lost his dignity completely, coughing until tears came to his eyes. 

Sojiro handed him his glass of ice water with slightly raised brows, and Hanzo took a long, slow drink. When the glass was drained, Hanzo leaned his elbow on the table and fisted his fingers into the hair at his temple, disheveled. 

“Hanzo. Decorum,” his father said sternly, and Hanzo straightened immediately, but couldn’t help his shoulders dragging down into a slump.

“You knew?” he croaked wearily. The butterflies of anxiety had fled, leaving him empty and exhausted.

“We suspected,” Sojiro corrected, eyes flicking down to his son’s posture. Hanzo straightened again.

Sojiro didn’t quite look disappointed, but it was close, and Hanzo knew that if his father didn’t habitually hide what he was thinking, the fact that Hanzo had failed him as a son would be written on his face as clear as his name on the checks he signed. “Your mother is very observant. We wished to hear it from you when you were ready, and it is unfortunate that that did not occur.”

“I thought you would be displeased,” Hanzo murmured, looking at the table as he tucked his hair behind his ear and tried to look like less of a mess than he felt like.

“I have had some time to get used to the idea.” Sojiro pinched his lips together. He must have been upset when it was first brought up and cooled off since: Hanzo wondered which long business trip had been the one his father had taken to ‘get used to the idea.’ 

“And you have grown into a fine young man regardless,” Sojiro continued. “So if …” He paused, seeming to struggle with his next words. Whether it was because he wasn’t sure what to say, or whether it was he wasn’t sure how to say it, Hanzo couldn’t be sure. “If that is how things are, then so be it. It will simply be upon your shoulders to work that much harder to compensate if such a thing should hinder your success in some way.”

They fell quiet as plates of sashimi and bowls of somen joined their untouched salad on the table. As the two of them wordlessly settled to eating, Hanzo wasn't entirely sure how he felt: was he relieved that his parents weren't going to cut him off or throw him out or something, or angry that his father had scared him half to death for two days straight for no apparent reason? He settled for both, stabbing his chopsticks into the bowl of noodles with more aggression than strictly necessary. It did not go unnoticed.

"You will have but a single brow if you furrow them any further, son," Sojiro commented placidly.  
Hanzo froze, chopsticks arrested in mid air, and slowly sett them to rest across the top of his bowl before Sojiro could go on to scold him for his lack of control. He knew he had to say something, but this conversation had been nerve-wracking enough already. He stared at his sashimi as some of the butterflies that had fled earlier threatened to return.

"I am ... very grateful," he began haltingly, choosing his words with care. "That you and Mother are not upset. I merely find it frustrating that ..." Here be paused again, unsure for a moment how to continue. "... that this conversation had to be postponed until now." Hanzo felt completely exhausted. He raised his eyes to his father's to see if he could read his expression, not quite admitting to himself that he was afraid of what he might find..

Sojiro's exhaled slowly through his nose. "Your level of distress was unexpected. I felt that this was a conversation best held in person, but perhaps some discussion before making the trip would not have been inappropriate."

"I could have spoken to you before this, as well," Hanzo admitted with a sigh. “I was … nervous.”

"You have learned something very powerful though," Sojiro said as he picked up his chopsticks to resume eating. Hanzo cast him a quizzical look.

"You have learned how it is to anticipate an encounter with someone in a position of authority that you cannot predict the outcome of. In the future, you can gain a great advantage over someone you have authority with, or who fear your reputation, by putting them ill at ease in such a way. "

Hanzo stared at his father, slack-jawed. This was too much. "Did you ... do this on purpose?"

"No." Sojiro sipped his tea. "However, if you are to experience a discomfort, it is best to take a lesson from it."

Hanzo had nothing left to say.

\-------

> **From Hanzo:** everything is fine. mother and father suspected before, nobodys mad, father (probably) didn't mean to panic me, and the whole thing got turned into a business lesson

> **To Hanzo:** glad youre alright but sounds weird. call me when you get the time so you can fill me in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Okay, y'all, raise your hand if you're too young to remember "Reach Out and Touch Someone" as AT&T's marketing slogan. I guess it lasted until the late 80's/early 90's  
> *The first scene of the chapter was the last one I wrote, lol  
> *Koshary is a popular Egyptian dish made with rice, lentils, and macaroni, with a spicy tomato sauce. Ana probably makes it fairly often. I haven't tried it myself, but here's [a recipe](https://www.daringgourmet.com/koshari-national-dish-of-egypt/) anyway.  
> *[Namasu](https://www.justonecookbook.com/namasu-daikon-and-carrot-salad/) is a carrot and daikon salad in what is mainly a sweet vinegar dressing.  
> *Unlike Ramen, Somen is usually served cold, and can be prepared with any number of different sauces, toppings, or additions.


	5. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving toward the holidays, Jesse learns something new and Fareeha does what younger siblings do best.

“So, you dressing up for Halloween?”

Jesse heard Hanzo scoff on the other end of the line. “Probably not. Are you?”

“I dunno,” he answered, shrugging even though Hanzo couldn’t see him. “I usually take Ree trick-or-treatin’, and sometimes she wants me t’match, but I couldn’t this year even if I wanted to.”

“What is she going as?” Hanzo sounded curious, and Jesse couldn’t help snorting in response. 

“I dunno, I can’t even tell. It’s like, a fighter jet or a Transformer or somethin’.” Fareeha hadn’t been particularly helpful in determining what the costume was, either: she had called it a ‘raptor suit,’ but it didn’t look like any sort of raptor that Jesse had ever seen. He had been expecting one of those blow-up dinosaur outfits when she first mentioned it. “Some blue robot-suit lookin’ thing with wings.”

Hanzo laughed as Jesse continued. “Normally I just take her out in my normal clothes and catch shit all night for being a half-assed cowboy.”

“Perhaps this year you can be a whole-assed cowboy.”

Jesse smiled when Hanzo started laughing all over again at his own joke. “Maybe one of these days I’ll get some chaps and spurs and fulfill my dreams of being a whole-assed cowboy,” he said with mock sincerity.

“This I have to see.” Hanzo’s laughter quieted into giggles, punctuated by the occasional hiccup. “Genji dresses like a ninja every year. I think he does it to annoy mother.”

“Aww, listen t’you, sugar. Y’gave yourself the hiccups.” While he wasn’t going to say so, Jesse found it amazingly cute. “So, do lots of kids in Japan do the ninja thing or is it considered weird there?”

“The hiccups were your fault,” Hanzo countered, “for making me laugh. But no, children in Japan don’t usually dress up at all, and there is no trick-or-treating.”

“Huh. So what didja’ do for Halloween when you lived over there? And you made _yourself_ laugh.”

There was a pause, and Jesse could hear Hanzo take several gulps of tea before he answered. “Nothing, really. It’s mostly adults having costume parties that celebrate, so it was interesting our first year here. Genji hasn’t missed an opportunity to trick-or-treat since.”

“Yeah, I bet it was different. Can’t say no to free candy, though. I’m kinda’ surprised you’re not more into it with that sweet tooth o’ yours.”

“Oh, I’m into candy.” There was Hanzo sounding all adorable again. “It’s the dressing up and going out that doesn’t appeal as much. Besides, who would I go with?”

“You got a point, darlin’.”

\-------

“So how’s the college search going?”

Even a friendly inquiry sounded a little gruff coming from Gabriel Reyes: if Jesse hadn’t known him for a full decade, he might have been put off by it.

“It’s goin’,” he answered, grateful to whoever invented earpieces with attached microphones for cell phones: getting dinner started would have been a bitch with the phone taking up his only fully functional hand. “Applied at UNM and should hear back around the first of th’year. Figured it’s just close enough t’commute if I keep busy on th’train ride there an’ back.”

“Sounds good. Any news on financial aid? I know you were concerned about that.”

Jesse snorted as he rinsed off the knife he had been chopping onions and tomatoes with. “Nah, FAFSA just opened last month, so I won’t be hearin’ about that ‘til after admissions. Miss Mead’s been helpin’ me find some other scholarship stuff, though, so I’ve been writin’ a lot of essays.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to get everything covered, if you’re staying in-state and living at home.” Gabe cleared his throat. Twice. “I’m really proud of you Jesse. You were dealt a shit hand more than once, and I can see you putting a lot of effort into succeeding anyway. I can’t say that about all my kids. Or even most of them.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” Jesse answered quietly, pausing in his preparations and leaning against the counter. “I just … I know y’didn’t have to do all y’did for me, ‘specially after what happened at that first home, and Ana … I’ll never know how t’say ‘thank you’ t’Ana properly for givin’ me pretty much everythin’ I’d been missin’ in life before I met her. It’d seem a waste, I guess, if I didn’ work at least as hard for m’self as y’all have for me.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “You give me way too much credit for you doing well, kid.” Gabe’s voice was husky with emotion. “Tell Ana what you told me and she’ll probably cry on you.” He cleared his throat yet again. “You keep on taking care of yourself.”

Gabriel seemed to be in a hurry to get off the phone after that -- Jesse didn’t blame him. He knew that Gabe had always been terrible with feelings. With a sigh, he took out his earpiece and went back to preparing dinner.

\-------

Hanzo and Satya sat next to each other in one of the library study rooms, both scrutinizing their partly-done project on Satya’s laptop with a critical eye.

“I believe that there is a major flaw in this data set,” Satya said finally. She tapped a nail, buffed and glossy, on one of their larger tables. “It makes no sense for there to be this number of outliers.”

“I believe you’re right.” Hanzo frowned as he went over them again. “This almost looks like two entirely different data sets with a few outliers scattered in between.” His finger hovered next to the screen, circling two parts of the table. “Do we still have the original data that we collected before it was entered in?”

They both turned, Satya left and Hanzo right, to open their project folders and leaf through the pages.

“Here it --” Hanzo cut himself off, brow furrowed as he looked at the columns of numbers. “This isn’t all of it.”

“Neither is this,” Satya answered dryly, holding out the corner of a page pinched in the fingers of her prosthetic as though it was something distasteful.

“Nice.” Hanzo wasn’t quite sure how he and Satya had been entering numbers in the same table without realizing it, but they had obviously managed. The dangers of shared files, he supposed.

Satya set the paper down and opened her hand for the page Hanzo was holding. “I will seperate the data if you will fix the graphs when I am finished.”

“I’ll keep working on the introduction while you’re doing that, then.” Hanzo opened his own laptop. “It’s not due until December first, so this isn’t a big enough issue to mess up our schedule too much. We still have a couple weeks,” he said with a sigh that turned into a huff as his computer woke up.

“We have twelve days. That is less than ‘a couple weeks’,” Satya answered without taking her eyes off the screen.

“I was rounding up.”

\-------

It was mostly still and quiet, the strip of moonlight coming through the missing slat in the blinds falling on the spot that told Jesse it was probably around midnight. He wasn't entirely sure what had awakened him from his doze, but he suspected it had been his growling stomach.

Partway down the stairs in search of a snack, he noticed the kitchen light was on. A shadow paced back and forth within the yellow rectangle spilling across the floor from the entryway, and Ana's voice filtered up from below. Jesse felt a stab of anxiety in his gut: Ana was never up this late. He pressed himself against the wall in the stairwell to listen.

"You and I both know that that would barely cover the medical bills, Jack. It is not enough."

Jack? Ana's lawyer friend? Biting his bottom lip, Jesse strained to hear a response. There was none, so she had to be on the phone.

"No, he deserves better than that .... mhmm .... it seems to be working fine. I have heard no complaints, but that does not mean much - I am not sure he would complain even if it was hurting him. ... Ah, no ... he will need another eventually. He is still growing and it would be good for him to have something more functional."

There was a heavy sigh and a silence that stretched: the shadow stopped pacing, then disappeared. Ana must have taken a seat.

"Look, I just want to make sure that whatever comes of this is enough to take care of everything. I have not told him how much the medical bills were or how much I still owe, and I am not going to if I can help it.” 

Jesse slid down the wall to sit on the stair, covering his mouth so that his heavy breathing didn't give him away. Now that he thought of it, Ana had brushed the topic aside when he had asked about paying for the ambulance, the hospital stay, the surgeries ... had made him think the insurance had taken care of all of it. And how much had his prosthetic cost? The stab of anxiety from earlier turned into a thousand needles, and he could feel himself beginning to shake, eyes wide.

“You know him -- he will try and take it all on himself: he doesn't ask for anything, he hardly even asks for specific groceries. You should have seen the poor dear down here last month worrying about whether he would have enough financial aid for school next year, and not being able to fall back on the military because of his arm, and about being a burden, of all things. It broke my heart." Ana's voice cracked slightly on the last few words, and it practically broke Jesse’s own heart. He felt like he was going to suffocate beneath the weight of Ana’s words, and he closed his eyes to quell the rising wave of nausea.

"Yes, I agree with that. Tell them I will litigate if I have to -- I do not want to have to put Jesse through this, but if they do not do right by my son on their own, I will make them." Ana sounded so very tired despite the steel in her voice. "Yes, thank you Jack. Goodnight."

His heart pounding, Jesse slowly rose from where he was sitting and crept back up the stairs to his room. He wasn't hungry anymore.

\-------

> **From Jesse:** you up?

> **To Jesse:** just finishing studying

> **From Jesse:** think you might have time to talk when your done?

Hanzo had never hit the call button so fast in his life.

The phone barely had time to ring before Jesse answered. "Hey Hanzo ..." He sounded shaken, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Jesse, are you alright? What happened?" Hanzo asked urgently, his stomach suddenly thrumming like a hummingbird in his throat.

"I can't ... I jes' ... I don't wanna talk about it, jes' need ta talk. Please."

Oh, god. What could possibly be so bad that Jesse didn't want to talk about it? The strained "please" was a bullet to Hanzo's heart.

He took off his reading glasses and turned off his lamp. "You are safe, though, right?" There was a murmur of assent from the other side of the line and the hummingbird's wings beat a little more slowly. "You want to talk back and forth, or want me to just talk to you like you did for me?"

Jesse inhaled sharply, letting the breath out in a slow shudder. “I dunno, jes’ anything t’keep my mind occupied.”

"Okay," Hanzo said soothingly. "Do you have some gum or something to chew on?"

"Yeah, I'm gettin' it."

"Let me know if you a change of topic.."

Hanzo grabbed at the first idea that came to mind, wandering his apartment in the dark as he told Jesse about some of the parks and mountains near Seattle, with their coniferous forests and many lakes and beautiful waterfalls. 

“I’ve never looked, but I would bet there are some great hiking trails in the mountains.”

“That sounds real great, Han,” Jesse answered weakly, the shake in his voice diminished some but by no means gone. “I’d love to hit the trails outside of Santa Fe one of these days.”

Hanzo smiled into the phone, hoping Jesse could hear it. “Maybe someday we can even go together.”

“Yeah …” There was an audible swallow in Jesse’s end.

“What do you think about the beach?” Hanzo asked suddenly, hurrying for another topic to occupy Jesse’s mind.

“Never been. Lived in the desert my whole life an’ never went much of anywhere outside it.”

So Hanzo launched into describing the different sorts of beaches he’d been to: the warm, sandy beaches of California, the cool, rocky coastline of Washington, and about the tidepools full of life on some of the beaches he had visited in Japan. Jesse commented every now and then, or asked a question, and Hanzo was happy to hear Jesse’s voice becoming steadier as they they went on until he sounded almost normal while they were debating whether the beach or the desert would have better kite weather.

Hanzo yawned and it was contagious - he heard Jesse do the same - but he kept on with the explanation about different kinds of Japanese kites Jesse had asked about. He paused after awhile and Jesse didn’t comment: deep, even breaths filtered through the speaker, the source close to the mouthpiece as though Jesse had dozed off with his phone on the pillow.

"Jesse?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake him if that was actually the case. When there was no reply, Hanzo inquired again before ending the call with a sigh so that Jesse could sleep in peace. His feet took him to the sliding door, where he leaned his forehead against the cool glass as he gazed over the balcony railing at the lights of the city, his heart aching.

Minutes ticked by, then bled into hours as his busy mind concocted any number of reasons for Jesse’s distress, worry bitter on the back of his tongue.

Sleep would be a long time coming tonight.

\-------

Hanzo had managed to concentrate on his classes, but just barely: he couldn’t help fretting over what had upset Jesse so much the night before, despite Jesse having said he was feeling better and thanking Hanzo when Hanzo had texted him in the morning to check in. Now, he sat in his usual campus cafe, eating mechanically and not really tasting his food as his imagination brought back every scenario it had created the night before plus some, examining them for flaws and shoving them away.

Was Jesse sick? He hadn’t mentioned anything about ill health aside from the head cold he had had a couple of months ago, but then again, it was likely that he wouldn’t. Still, he seemed fairly active, so his being terminally ill or something was probably not the case - Hanzo was being stupid even thinking it.

Chewing his lip, he raised his paper cup to his mouth to find it empty, and the teabag he had been too distracted to remove hit the bottom of the lid with a wet thump. When had it run out? He went through the motions of getting a new cup, his brain already moving on to the next theory.

Had something happened to a member of his family? Probably not: Jesse would have told him if something had happened to Ana or Fareeha. Hanzo couldn’t recall him even mentioning anyone else. Or any other close friends, either.

What if Jesse was being harassed? Or worse? Hanzo ground his teeth at the mere thought. It was possible, though: that would be the sort of thing _anyone_ would be hesitant to discuss, let alone someone as private as he knew Jesse to be. It would explain the time of night, too.

Hanzo felt sick.

He forced himself away from that train of thought; Jesse had said he was safe and Hanzo wanted to believe him. Besides, there was approximately zero he could do to help if he suspected that Jesse wasn’t safe and Jesse himself chose not to talk about it, knowing only his first name and his city. It wasn’t a lot to go on.

Financial troubles. That was another possible one, and less painful to think about. The timing was odd, but Jesse had spoken of similar concerns before and news sometimes came at strange hours. If something catastrophic had happened, maybe Jesse had needed a distraction to clear his mind before tackling whatever it was. It certainly sounded like something Jesse would do, would explain his not wanting to discuss it, and was something Hanzo could conceivably help with, if he did choose to talk about it.

In any case, no matter how many possible scenarios Hanzo came up with, there was no guarantee any of them were true, and he wouldn’t know until Jesse felt that he could trust Hanzo enough to confide in him. He _wanted_ Jesse to trust him that much, and for a moment it surprised him just how strongly he wanted it.

The realization gave Hanzo pause: of course he and Jesse were friends, but they only really knew each other online, and it was unusual for him to be this invested in someone. Unheard of, really, considering the only person he had ever felt this close to was Genji.

Hanzo dwelled on that while he absently refilled his tea again and wandered out of the cafe, forgetting his messenger bag the first time and having to go back. Unusual, unheard of, or otherwise, Hanzo _had_ invested himself in Jesse, just as Jesse had shown that he was invested in Hanzo. The depths to which he genuinely cared for his friend - maybe even his crush, but he wasn’t about to admit that Genji was right - was something Hanzo just couldn’t examine right now, but he did know that despite never having met Jesse face to face, he could no longer imagine life without him.

That, in itself, was a little scary too.

\-------

It was still nippy out when Jesse climbed the front steps after school, snagging the mail from the box on the way into the house. Once inside, he set down his backpack to examine the handful of envelopes, disregarding the fliers entirely.

Usually, he just flipped through on the off chance that something was addressed to him, but things were different now.

Credit card offer, coupon packet, another credit card offer, something from Ree’s school, and something that Jesse was 90% sure was junk. He looked up the sender on his phone just to be on the safe side and, now 100% sure that it was junk, left it on the side table with the rest.

No medical bills.

Not sure whether he was disappointed or relieved, Jesse made a detour to the kitchen for a glass of water, grabbed his backpack with The Claw, and headed to his room to start on his homework.

Truth be told, Jesse realized as he slumped up the stairs with his backpack thumping against every step, he wasn’t entirely sure what he would have done if there _had_ been something in today’s mail: it wasn’t as though he would open something addressed to Ana, and knowing that it was there without knowing what it said was not going to help his peace of mind. He didn’t even know where the bills would be coming from, if there were paper bills being sent at all: the hospital? Various doctors? A medical billing service? _A collections agency_?!

Reaching his desk and dropping heavily into the chair so that some of the water sloshed over the side of his glass onto his jeans, Jesse swallowed hard at that last though. If he had thrown Ana into debt and it had gone to collections and he had been destroying her credit for these past two years, he’d never forgive himself.

Ugh.

He slumped forward, his face mashing into his keyboard. He wanted badly to be able to talk to Hanzo, he admitted to himself, but was afraid he’d say too much. Or that Hanzo would want to know just what happened in the accident to rack up so many medical bills and Jesse would either have to tell him about his messed up arm or lie about it. He didn’t even know how much the debt _was_.

Trying to breathe deep and feeling around blindly for the pack of gum he knew he had left on the desk, Jesse tried to reason with himself: if it came down to it, he knew that there was no way he’d be able to lie to Hanzo. Not really, anyway; lies of omission didn’t count, did they? Still, the whole thing had his stomach churning.

Jesse needed to get his homework done. He reluctantly lifted his head with a small, frustrated groan, and reached up to touch the imprint of the keyboard in his forehead before going to dig out the first of his assignments. Hopefully, the work would distract him from everything else for awhile.

\-------

"Jesse McCree! Is that gum I see in your mouth?"

Jesse skidded to a stop as the sound of Mrs. Olivares' voice grated on his ears, and hurriedly swallowed the lump of gum that hadn't tasted like cinnamon for at least twenty minutes now.

"No, ma'am," he said genially, turning around to face her with his most dazzling smile. Normally she was immune to it, but today could be his lucky day.

It was not his lucky day. With her, it was never his lucky day.

"Don't you try to charm me, young man!" Mrs. Olivares shook her finger at him, not quite in his face, her other hand on her hip. "And you know there's no running in the halls."

"Sorry, ma'am." Jesse rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. Mrs. Olivares had never liked him: he had been in her algebra class as a freshman, and she had nicked (or rather, almost nicked) him for gum chewing at least three times a week the entire year. It was her biggest pet peeve. "Went a little over time at the counseling office and didn't want t'be late for class." Never mind that it happened to be his lunch block.

"One of these days ..."

"Oh, there you are, Jesse!"

Miss Mead had come to Jesse's rescue out of nowhere, tottering up to them in her penny loafers and a dress that looked like she had purchased it in 1947. For all Jesse knew, she had.

"I'm just going to borrow him for a second," she said to the other teacher, taking Jesse by his prosthetic arm and leading him off in another direction. He didn't look back to see how Mrs. Olivares reacted. "So how are you doing, dear?"

"I'm doin' just fine, ma'am, thanks for asking."

The one thing Jesse didn't appreciate about Miss Mead was the way those big, round eyes of hers always seemed to be on the verge of tears when she looked up at him through her thick glasses, her voice tinged with pity: it had been that way since his accident. Other than that, she was a peach.

"That's good, dear, that's good." She patted his arm. He didn't feel it. "I found another short story contest you might like, and an essay contest too."

"That's real nice of you, ma'am. I 'preciate it."

Miss Mead beamed at him. "Did you finish the Ayn Rand essay yet?"

Jesse looked a little sheepish. That might be the only one that he never finished, even if he _had_ been stress-free enough and had the time to really slog through Atlash Shrugged and try to deconstruct it.. "Still workin' on that one. Got the Elie Wiesel one all done though, if y'don't mind takin' a look, and nearly done with th' Kennedy one."

“Well, you just keep working on those, dear. I’ll look at them when you’re finished.” Miss Mead turned them down another hall, and Jesse got the feeling that they were wandering rather than walking somewhere with a destination in mind.

His stomach growled. Miss Mead tutted.

“That’s right, it’s time for your lunch. Growing boys have to eat.” She relinquished her hold on Jesse’s arm and made a motion to shoo him off. “We’ll talk tomorrow after class.”

\-------

> **From Hanzo:** wait, so what’s the difference between a cactus and a succulent?

> **To Hanzo:** nothing but not nothing?  
>  **To Hanzo:** it’s like, all cacti are succulents, but not all succulents are cacti  
>  **To Hanzo:** kinda like all biscuits are bread but not all bread is biscuits

> **From Hanzo:** that makes sense?

> **To Hanzo:** give me a sec

Jesse positioned his phone to take a photo of the two cacti in their tiny pots on his windowsill, then one of the little succulent garden full of echeverias and aloes that sat in a single, wide pot next to them. It took him a few tries, with the sun behind his plants in the window, and he eventually had to set them on his dresser to have their photos taken before replacing them in their usual spots.

> **To Hanzo:** these are some of the not-cactus succulents i have in my room

He sent the second picture, then followed up with the first.

> **To Hanzo:** and their little cactus buddies

> **From Hanzo:** very pretty. not at all what you usually see in pictures of cacti  
>  **From Hanzo:** i especially like the purple and bluish ones that look like thick flowers

> **To Hanzo:** those are echeverias  
>  **To Hanzo:** and most cactus pictures you see on postcards and in cartoons and stuff are saguaro. they’re really big

Jesse typed as he padded down the stairs and out the back door, letting it swing closed of its own accord on squeaking hinges.

> **To Hanzo:** anyway, they come in lots of different varieties  
>  **To Hanzo:** the echeverias, not the saguaro  
>  **To Hanzo:** Ana and I grow a bunch of them

He followed that up with a few pictures of some of the more interesting pots and beds: one of the pots was filled with a purple variety that clustered hugely and so close together that it looked like it housed a single wide flower, while Jesse’s favorite bed was home to a host of plants whose leaves spiraled out from the center stem in interesting patterns. 

Hanzo replied with his own photo soon after, a wide, shallow rectangular pot with what looked like a small forest of very tiny trees, moss growing in a soft green carpet between their roots and a few black stones rising like obelisks a little right of center.

> **From Hanzo:** this is my indoor bonsai, a fukien tea  
>  **From Hanzo:** and my bamboo

Jesse smiled as a bundle of bamboo in a glass bowl filled with stones popped up, bound in a circle so that the tallest were in the center. Leave it to Hanzo to keep the classy-looking plants.

> **To Hanzo:** those are real pretty. the tea one looks like a forest in small scale  
>  **To Hanzo:** never seen a bonsai that looks like that before  
>  **To Hanzo:** not that I’ve seen much bonsai

Another picture, this one of a bush filled with red flowers, its roots streaming over a large stone on their way to the soil.

> **From Hanzo:** this is my azalea, it lives outside  
>  **From Hanzo:** it’s probably shaped more like the ones you’ve seen  
>  **From Hanzo:** i have some more in seattle i couldn’t bring down with me

Jesse wandered back inside as he looked over the older photos that Hanzo sent him of the bonsai he didn’t have with him, and they ended up talking about their respective plants for quite awhile: Jesse learned more about training bonsai and different shapes than he ever expected to, and Hanzo learned more about propagating succulents than he probably needed.

\-------

The phone rang and Jesse answered it out of reflex: he needed a break from tearing his hair out over trigonometry anyway.

“Hey Han, what’s up?” Twirling his chair around, Jesse leaned dangerously far back in it and propped his feet on the bed. He noted absently that there was a hole in the toe of his sock, although it was a mystery how he hadn’t noticed it before considering how cold it was in the house. The fact he couldn’t see his breath in his room was a miracle.

“I needed some time away from composition and thought I would see what you were doing.” Hanzo sounded as burned out as Jesse felt, but Jesse still couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat.

“I’m takin’ some time away from trig is what I’m doin’. DeMoivre is kicking my ass. What’s your composition about?”

Hanzo snorted on the other end of the line. “It’s an essay on following the letter of the law versus the spirit of the law. I have a vague idea of where I’m going with it, but the words on the screen and the words in my head are like two different essays.”

Jesse made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “Hate it when that happens. If you’re beatin’ your head against th’wall about it, I’d suggest jes’ charging on through without worryin’ if it’s any good and goin’ back to edit later. It was th’only way I could finish a tough chapter sometimes.” He could hear Hanzo hum as though considering it. “I can look at it for ya’ if ya’ want, too,” he added. “Wouldn’t hurt t’get some feedback.”

“Thank you, I may take you up on that.” There was a note of relief in Hanzo’s voice. “Essays like this were never my strongest suit. I’m not terrible at them, but they’re definitely a chore. Want me to help you with your math?”

“I wish.” Jesse twisted in his chair to look mournfully at the trigonometry book on his desk. “I don’t think your explainin’ it to me over the phone’s gonna make it stick in my head any better.”

“I have a screen sharing program so that I can show you,” Hanzo suggested.

“Aw darlin’, that would be a lifesaver.” Jesse spun back around to face his computer. “If you can help me figure this out even a little bit, I’d be grateful. ‘Sides, then you can get your essay drafted while I finish this up, an’ then I can look over it for ya.”

Hanzo laughed. “It’s a deal.”

It took only a few minutes to get the program Hanzo usually used installed on Jesse’s computer and set up so that Jesse could see what Hanzo was doing on screen, the phone on speaker so he could talk and write at the same time. It took far longer for DeMovier’s Theorem to make any sense at all to Jesse, through several rounds of patient explanation on Hanzo’s part. 

“Okay, I think maybe I got it. Lemme do one and you can tell me how bad I screw up.”

Once Jesse was finished with the equation Hanzo had typed out, Hanzo highlighted one of the lines. “You can probably simplify this one by leaving this step out, but you did do it correctly, even if it was the long way.”

“Aw, shoot. I guess Mr. Price would rather I did it th’long way anyhow.”

There was a knock on the bedroom door and Ana peeked her head in, the Mom Look threatening to settle on her face and a cord of steel in her voice. "I thought you were coming up here to do homework, not talk on the phone, Jesse."

"Aw Ana, I am doin' homework!" Jesse protested, gesturing at the equations on the screen and the half-full piece of note paper on the desk next to the open trigonometry book. The storm clouds cleared from Ana's expression as she leaned in the doorway with a quizzical arch of her brow. "Hanzo’s just helpin' me get through a spot I didn' understand that well." 

Ana rolled her eyes skyward and pinched the bridge of her nose, but her smile was fond. "Why do you not just invite your friend over if the two of you are going to do your homework together?"

"He’s kinda’ in California."

"Oh, so this is the internet friend you have been speaking with for the past few months?" Ana pinned Jesse with a knowing look, a note of curiosity in her voice. Jesse cleared his throat and tried not to turn too many shades of red.

"It is a pleasure to nearly meet you, ma'am," Hanzo said through the speaker.

"Well, it is a pleasure to nearly meet you as well, Hanzo." Ana huffed a laugh and turned to go, smiling. "I will leave you to finish, then." She gave a slight wave and let herself out.

"Alright, go ahead an' laugh," Jesse said, only slightly disgruntled, once the door was closed. "I know you wanna."

"Actually," Hanzo answered. "I’m more curious as to why you call your mother by her given name. I have heard you refer to her as Ana, but didn’t realize you used it to address her as well."

Jesse froze, prickling all over with nerves. "Oh, uh ... that." He cleared his throat, unsure whether he was ready to share. Hanzo had asked, though, and this wasn’t really something he was actively hiding from his friend. "We're not, um, blood relations. I, uh, didn't come t'live with Ana 'til I was twelve, an' she adopted me a few years back. I mean, she's my mom and all, but I never ..." Jesse faltered a bit, not sure where he was going with that thought. He was so used to people already knowing, or assuming as soon as they saw him and Ana or Ree together, that it was odd trying to actually tell someone.

"I see." There was a moment of quiet. "I am sorry, I should have been more sensitive about asking such a question. Ana seems to be a fine woman."

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Jesse agreed. 

\-------

Saturday morning was particularly chilly, and found both Jesse and Hanzo curled up with warm drinks after their early workouts.

“So, you goin’ home for Thanksgiving?” Jesse asked, his fingers curled around a mug of instant hot cocoa made with the dregs from the coffee pot. Ana had wrinkled her nose at the concoction, pointing out that she could have just brewed a fresh pot.

On the other end of the line, Hanzo had his usual tea. “No. My family has never celebrated it, and with finals in a few weeks, I may as well take advantage of the break to study.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Jesse commented. “Didn’t really think about it like that.”

“Does your family do anything?”

Jesse took a long sip and grimaced slightly. Perhaps Ana had been right about the coffee. “We have dinner. Some of it is the standard Thanksgiving stuff, like turkey and potatoes, but some of it’s stuff Ana’s family always made on holidays. So it’s this weird mish-mash of American and Egyptian. Also buñuelos, but I make those and the pies.”

“You cook?” Hanzo sounded impressed, and more than a little surprised. Jesse laughed. 

“Well, yeah, haven’t I mentioned it before? I’m in charge of supper a few times a week. I mean, I’m no master chef or anything, but I manage.”

“I still haven’t gotten the hang of it,” Hanzo admitted. “Honestly, since I moved here, I have mostly lived off of breakfast foods, salad, and takeout.” His voice had that apologetic tone to it, as though embarrassed..

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, darlin’. You’ve only had, what? Two months t’start learnin’? You’re a busy guy and most o’ the time, cooking for one’s a hassle anyway. I jes’ eat sandwiches or microwave somethin’ if I’m not cookin’ for someone else.”

“I guess you’re right.”

The clump, clump, clump of Fareeha dragging herself down the stairs prompted Jesse to check the time. “Sorry darlin’, I gotta go get ready for work,” he said as his sister mumbled a sleepy “Morning….” and dropped bonelessly into the beanbag chair in front of the television. “Talk to ya’ later?”

“Yes, I will talk to you later. Have a good day at work.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Jesse paused once he had ended the call, squinting at nothing. What did he say that for? He could feel his face heating up: he glanced at Fareeha to see whether she seemed to have heard, and found her engrossed in choosing something to watch on Netflix. His chest full of bees, he exhaled heavily through his nose. Him and his big mouth … what was Hanzo thinking right now?

\-------

The lamplight cast a yellow glow over the probability book and the papers covered in complex equations spread across the desk. Hanzo reflexively reached for his phone when it chimed for a text message, not even pausing in writing out the formula he was working on as he flipped it over. He stopped short then and slowly set down his pencil, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

> **From Jesse:** hey is this jesse’s boyfriend?

No, but he’d certainly not be opposed to the idea.

> **To Jesse:** who is this?

> **From Jesse:** it’s fareeha. y aren’t there any pics of u on his phone?

> **To Jesse:** we have not exchanged photos yet.does jesse know you are using his phone?

> **From Jesse:** no. my dork brother is having a turkey nap on th e couch

The next message was a photo. Hanzo inhaled sharply at the close-up, poorly lit as it was. Jesse’s face - or at least he assumed it was Jesse’s face - was lax with sleep, dark lashes resting on tanned cheeks that were dotted with freckles. It was all framed with messy brown hair, and Hanzo could see the curve of an earring peeking out from between the locks. His slightly parted lips were shiny, and it didn’t really matter that it was probably drool.

God, he was beautiful. Hanzo wondered what color his eyes were.

> **From Jesse:** I am so sorry, Hanzo. Fareeha will not be bothering you again.

That must have been Ana catching Jesse’s sister in the act. Hanzo snorted a laugh and saved the picture before returning to his homework with a smile on his face. He wasn’t bothered in the least.

\-------

Jesse woke abruptly, disoriented and nearly falling off the couch in response to the feeling that he had just had a light flashed in his face and a booming shout of “Fareeha Amari, you get back here this instant!” ringing in his ears. A high-pitched screech followed, signalling that Ana had captured her prey.

He sat up blearily, rubbing the crust from his eyes as the blanket sagged from his shoulders and his phone slid down his chest to tangle in it. 

“Wha’ happened?” he asked as Fareeha was marched back into the living room, mewling and wincing at the death grip Ana had on her ear. They came to a stop in front of the couch, only confusing Jesse further.

“Tell your brother what you did,” Ana ordered, the fist of her free hand jammed against her hip.

“I might have used your phone to text your friend,” Fareeha muttered, barely audible. Jesse’s eyes widened, his heartbeat speeding up, but it seemed that she wasn’t done yet, as Ana cleared her throat meaningfully and gave her ear a shake. “Also I took …” the rest trailed off into a mumbled mess that Jesse couldn’t understand. He squinted at her.

“Young lady …” Ana warned, eyeing her daughter. Jesse knew that look: that look could pierce your very soul.

“I used your phone to text your friend and took a picture of you and sent it to him!” The confession came out so fast that that it may as well have been a single word. Jesse yelped and grabbed at his phone as Fareeha broke free of her mother’s ear hold. 

Jesse could hear her feet thundering up the stairs with a belated shout of “Sorry!,” and it blended with the pounding of the blood in his ears as his eyes scanned the brief conversation. He groaned at the photo Fareeha had taken and flopped backward onto the couch, dropping his phone onto his chest to drag his hand down his face. He peeked out from between his fingers at Ana, who was turning back toward him after glaring up the stairwell with a huff.

“I am sorry, habibi,” she said with a motherly click of her tongue. She sat down on the edge of the couch next to him and reached over to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. “Hanzo will understand.”

“Yeah,” Jesse groused. Ana patted his good shoulder and stood. 

“I expect that you will wish to talk to him yourself now. See what he says.” She turned and headed to the kitchen, whether to give him some privacy or to return to what she had been doing before chasing after Fareeha, he wasn’t sure.

Jesse hesitated, then started typing.

> **To Hanzo:** Hey, sorry about Ree

> **From Hanzo:** it was no bother. and i got a picture of you out of it (꒵ ̫ ꒵)

Jesse snorted. Of course. Wait … had Hanzo actually wanted a picture of him?

> **To Hanzo:** well that hardly seems fair darlin

> **From Hanzo:** i suppose you’re right

A moment later, a photo popped up and Jesse’s heart was racing all over again. Hanzo had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, hiding partially behind what looked like a pair of reading glasses. Long black hair was pulled up in a messy bun to show off his angular features, and his lips were curled in a shy smile.

> **From Hanzo:** i really do need to get back to this assignment though  
>  **From Hanzo:** you owe me a picture with your eyes open

> **To Hanzo:** you already won the selfie game taking my breath away like that  
>  **To Hanzo:** but i’ll pay my debt when i’m more awake

Jesse stared at the texts for several minutes after he sent them. What was he thinking? He was sure that had to have been the cheesiest thing he had ever said (or anyone had ever said, even) and Hanzo was probably over there laughing at him for it. Still, though … he scrolled back up so that the whole photo was on the screen and spent far more time than he needed to just grinning at it like an idiot before saving it. 

Almost 800 miles away, Hanzo was grinning just as much and having a great deal of trouble shifting his focus back to math.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Woot! Look at this [lovely drawing of Hanzo's selfie](https://drizzerey.tumblr.com/post/180019061183/httpsarchiveofourownorgworks15887901chapters) by [Drizzerey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzerey/pseuds/Drizzerey)!  
> *I'm pretty sure y'all know exactly which dino costume Jesse is thinking about, but just in case you don't, here's [the cutest video I could find](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIWzpZB9mKY).  
> *[The parks and hiking areas around Seattle are gorgeous](https://www.wta.org/go-outside/hikes/hike_search?title=&region=0c1d82b18f8023acb08e4daf03173e94&subregion=df2c2da1637452abe74a5d10837c2e03&rating=0&show_incomplete=on&mileage%3Alist%3Afloat=0.0&mileage%3Alist%3Afloat=25&elevationgain%3Alist%3Aint=0&elevationgain%3Alist%3Aint=5000&highpoint=&searchabletext=&sort=&filter=Search).  
> *Beach wins over desert for kite weather, hands down.  
> *I couldn't get through Atlas Shrugged either, let alone write an essay about it.  
> *If you're going to make cocoa out of coffee, don't use the dregs. I have made that mistake myself.


	6. Senior Portraits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After swapping more than just quick selfies, both Jesse and Hanzo are feeling a little bit in over their heads.

Jesse’s laugh was music to Hanzo’s ears as he continued with the story he had been telling.

“... Satya and I _finally_ make it to the library, but we had only been there for about ten minutes when her roommate arrives. Have I mentioned her before?”

“Nope,” Jesse answered.

“Hmm. She’s a French dancer here studying literature. Satya says she spends more time in the studio than at their dorm, but I haven’t heard her whole story -- apparently she’s quite dramatic.”

“Got it.”

“So there we are, finally getting into the study room to work on our project, and then there is Amelie with someone from one of her classes, carrying a huge camera bag. To make a long story short, he had recruited her to model for his photography assignment, but needed at least two more people with ‘the right look.’ Of course she volunteered the both of us.”

“She didn’ want t’whisk y’all off right then to do it, did she?”

“No, but she did want to do it tonight. Satya and I told her that it would have to wait until we had gotten the last of _our_ project finished, otherwise they would have to find new models. Having come over, her classmate was adamant it be us, because now he had ‘a vision’ of how he was going to set things up. So they hovered outside our study room until we were finished, talking in French. It was awkward.”

Jesse snorted. “So did ya’ find out what this ‘vision’ was?”

Hanzo heaved a sigh, certain that his eyeroll had been audible. “Unfortunately. Amelie failed to mention that this was a nude photo shoot, and we didn’t find out until we got to the place he wanted to do it -- which was outside -- and he asked us to undress.”

The sudden laughter that blossomed from Jesse’s side of the line was fairly adequate payment for the awkward embarrassment of the night’s events. “Aw hell no! So did ya stay?”

“We convinced him that scantily dressed was more alluring than nude, and into doing the shoot indoors. He liked my tattoos and Satya’s bionic arm enough that it wasn’t hard.”

Jesse’s chuckles stopped abruptly. There was a sharp intake of breath, then a moment of silence before Jesse spoke again, his voice low in a way that sent shivers down Hanzo’s spine. 

“Hey darlin’, you never told me you were inked.”

Hanzo swallowed hard, wondering briefly what else he might say to hear that tone again. He probably shouldn’t say _anything_ , considering the things it was doing to him. “I have a full sleeve of a dragon on my left arm. Maybe a little more than a sleeve -- it covers part of my chest, too.” 

“I’d love ta see that someday,” Jesse said with a whistle. “Think he’ll give ya’ copies?”

The photographer had promised them each a set, but Hanzo wasn’t ready to admit that yet. It felt like committing to sharing them. “You still owe me a photo of you with your eyes open first,” he teased instead of answering, pushing away from his desk and wandering over to the bed. “I expect you to pay your debt.”

He heard Jesse laugh. “Can’t pay up lookin’ like this, darlin’.” 

There was that ‘darlin’’ that set Hanzo’s heart fluttering again, just like it always did. He bit his lip: this whole conversation had been messing with his insides. He liked it.

“You just got out of the shower. I’m sure you look fine. If you don’t want to take a selfie, you could always send one of those romance novel cover senior pictures I never got to see,” he added slyly. He hoped he sounded smoother than he felt. “Or did you forget I told you I wanted to see them back when you had them taken?”

“Awwwwww, c’mon Han!” Jesse groaned. “I thought you were jokin’! ‘Sides, I don’t have ‘em scanned. I’d have t’send ya hard copies or somethin’.”

“Then I will text you my address,” Hanzo shot back playfully. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he genuinely wanted those photos.

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“You’re actually serious.” When Jesse finally spoke, there was a note of confused wonderment in his voice.

“Yes, I am.” Jesse’s reaction was beginning to make Hanzo nervous, and he rolled off the bed as the silence grew awkward, needing to bolster himself with a cup of tea. Jesse hadn’t actually sent the first photo of himself, he reflected as he headed toward the kitchen, and maybe this wasn’t a direction that his friend wanted to take their relationship in. What if Jesse had only implied Hanzo should send a selfie in return to smooth the situation over? Was Hanzo making him uncomfortable? Was he kidding himself with how he had started feeling?

“Hey, Jesse, I’m sorry,” he began. “I-”

“No, hey, it’s okay,” Jesse cut in, seeming to have recovered slightly. “I just- I didn’ think you’d actually really want ‘em, y’know? It’s- I’m just a li’l surprised.”

Hanzo wasn’t sure whether he thought it was cute that Jesse was so flustered, or whether he felt bad for flustering him. Maybe a bit of both.

“You don’t really have to send them, if you-”

“Naw, you can have ‘em.” Jesse sounded much more like his normal self, even a little amused. “...if y’promise to send me yours.” 

Hanzo barked a laugh, feeling better. It was only fair. “You have a deal, although my photos are in Seattle and I won’t be able to send them until I go back for the holidays in two weeks.”

“I s’pose I c’n live that long.”

\-------

> **To Gremlin:** Do you know whether Mother still has my senior pictures put away?

> **From Gremlin:** hi 2 u 2  
>  **From Gremlin:** idk y dun u ask her?

Hanzo grimaced. Reading his brother’s texts, at times, was difficult.

> **To Gremlin:** Because i’d rather not

> **From Gremlin:** y do u need them?  
>  **From Gremlin:** lol  
>  **From Gremlin:** still goin 2 tell me u dont have a bf?

His brother in general, at times, was also difficult.

> **To Gremlin:** i don’t know why i ask you things

> **From Gremlin:** cmon spill

> **To Gremlin:** i told jesse i would send him mine if he sent me his  
>  **To Gremlin:** happy?

> **From Gremlin:** lol thought so  
>  **From Gremlin:** 4 srs, ill look  
>  **From Gremlin:** u should send the gq 1 n the 1 by the bridge  
>  **To Gremlin:** but if i get them u have 2 let me see pics of him

> **To Gremlin:** seriously???

\-------

Reading week had begun, and Hanzo was feeling decidedly high-strung, absolutely certain that he was running behind on his preparation for finals no matter how well he stuck to his study schedule. Jesse had been invaluable moral support, encouraging him when he was frustrated and offering to look over his papers, while Genji had occasionally made himself a welcome distraction.

On Wednesday, a small manila envelope was tucked into Hanzo’s mailbox when he returned home. The handwriting on it suggested that great care had been taken to write neatly by someone who habitually did not do so, and seeing “Jesse McCree” on the return address made Hanzo’s day immensely better.

It was all Hanzo could do to not open the envelope right there in the lobby, and he clutched it to his chest for the entire ride up to the twelfth floor, bouncing on the balls of his feet. As soon as his door was unlocked, he toed off his shoes and abandoned his messenger bag in the foyer to make a beeline for the couch, curling up on it to open his prize. 

Hanzo’s breath was held in anticipation as he slit the envelope open, setting the photos face down so that he could read the accompanying note first. The fact that there was not one photo, but _three_ made him giddy. He unfolded the note.

> _Hiya Han-_  
>  _I couldn’t not send the Most Interesting Man in the World one. It would have been a travesty and I’ll bet you would have bugged me until you got to see it anyway._  
>  _The other one sitting down is the one that made it into the yearbook, and the third one is where the lady went whole hog on the romance novel cover thing. I’m surprised she didn’t make me undo more buttons. Anyway, I figured you’d get a kick out of it. Hopefully my ugly mug doesn’t scare you too much. ;)_  
>  _Sorry this isn’t a real letter. I’m bad at writing them and I figure I’ll have talked to you ten times between when I’m writing this and when you’re reading it._  
>  _Yours, Jesse_

Hanzo’s heart was beating fast as he turned the first photo over. Of course it was the Most Interesting Man, although mirrored and at a wooden picnic table, and Hanzo couldn’t help a very un-manly giggle; even Jesse in the photo seemed as though he were trying not to laugh, his eyes twinkling with humor. They were dark amber.

Hanzo examined the photo carefully, taking in the slightly lopsided grin and the tousled look of his hair -- the photographer had not been incorrect in calling it ‘artfully untidy.’ Eventually, he set that one aside to turn over the next.

The second one had to have been the yearbook photo: Jesse was sitting under a tree on a hay bale, of all things, leaning back on a left hand hidden behind him and his hat resting on his knee. The sun through the leaves made a dappled pattern on his skin, and he looked relaxed. Happy. Beautiful.

Biting his lip as he turned over the last photo, Hanzo felt his mouth go dry. Jesse was under the same tree, standing to lean on the trunk with his left shoulder and his legs crossed at the ankles, the thumb of his other hand hooked into his belt. The top few buttons of his plaid shirt were undone to show his collarbone. He must have been humoring the photographer, giving the camera a sultry, come-hither look, his usual crooked smile turned to a smolder. Hanzo knew he’d be seeing it in his dreams, paired with the way Jesse sounded when his voice dipped low.

It was unfair for his friend to look so good, and the more Hanzo examined the photos, the more he found to like: the way Jesse’s jeans clung to his thighs, the small gold hoops in his ears, the dimple he got when he smiled …

Hanzo Shimada was in _big_ trouble.

\-------

> **To Gremlin:** I need your help

> **From Gremlin:** u ok?

> **To Gremlin:** yeah I just need advice on something  
>  **To Gremlin:** its stupid but youre the only one i can ask

> **From Gremlin:** whats up?

> **To Gremlin:** don’t make fun of me too much  
>  **To Gremlin:** but i think i have feelings for jesse  
>  **To Gremlin:** okay i know i do  
>  **To Gremlin:** but we’ve never even met  
>  **To Gremlin:** and I don’t know what to do

> **From Gremlin:** fr srs? took u long enuf  
>  **From Gremlin:** he kno?  
>  **From Gremlin:** u shud meet him n see wut hppns

> **To Gremlin:** i can’t translate your texts right now. i’m going to call

> **From Gremlin:** k

Hanzo dialed his brother’s number. He was probably going to regret this.

“Hey!” The unrestrained glee in Genji’s single syllable was astonishing. “So fill me in.”

His fourth cup of tea in a row steaming on the nightstand, Hanzo flopped back onto his bed with a groan. “I don’t even know where to start. It probably began awhile ago-”

“It did, you’ve been in denial,” Genji supplied helpfully.

“Shut up.” Hanzo dragged his hand down his face. “If you’ll let me finish, Jesse and I have been talking a lot more lately. At least once a day on the phone, more on the weekends. We text between classes. I just … we feel close.” That was the best way he could describe it, he supposed. In hindsight, he had been doomed from the beginning.

“Okay, so what made you finally admit that you caught feels?”

“I … I got his pictures in the mail,” Hanzo answered begrudgingly, his voice small.

“OMG, what?” Genji sounded as though he were trying very hard not to laugh while Hanzo cringed at his saying ‘OMG’ out loud. “So I guess he’s cute or something?”

“Well, yeah, he’s gorgeous. But that’s not all. He’s funny, and sweet, and smart.” Hanzo sighed heavily, unable to keep the smile from his lips. “I am so fucked.”

“Not yet if you haven’t even met him.” 

“Genji!” Groaning, Hanzo rolled over and buried his face in the duvet while his brother cackled.

“Come on, I’m serious,” he practically whined when Genji had finally settled down and was wheezing to try and catch his breath. “I feel stupid enough asking you for relationship help.”

“Awwwww, don’t be like that Hanzo. What do you even want to know? Like you said, you haven’t even met yet.”

“I just-” What did Hanzo want to know? What did he even _want?_ “I don’t know,” he said, even as the voice in the back of his head answered with ‘Jesse. I want Jesse. As a boyfriend.’ He decided not to listen to it, growling in frustration. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel about this.”

Genji was quiet for a moment. Uncharacteristically so. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help right now,” he said finally, voice soft. “Everybody I’ve dated has gone to our school, so I don’t know jack about long distance. And … I guess you gotta figure out what you want, first. Best I can say is talk to him and see where he’s at with this. Unless you wanna, like, check the internet or something.”

“Thanks, Genji.” Hanzo heaved a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

Their conversation meandered off into other topics, ending when Genji was called to dinner.

\-------

“I got your pictures today.”

Jesse’s heartbeat sped up at Hanzo’s words, and he dropped into his desk chair. “Yeah?” he asked, wanting but not wanting to ask what he thought of them.

“You looked really good.” Hanzo’s tone suggested there was more to it than he was saying. “And you’re right, I would have bugged you about not seeing the Most Interesting Man picture,” he added with amusement.

“See, I knew it.” Jesse nearly laughed. “‘Tween that and the other one, we hardly got any serious pictures taken.”

“I _liked_ the other one. You looked like you were really getting into the cover model persona.”

“Now you’re just teasin’ me.” Jesse did laugh this time, his nervousness about the photos starting to dissipate.

“So am I going to see you on the cover of some Harlequin novel next time I go to the bookstore?” The playful lilt of Hanzo’s voice warmed something in Jesse’s chest and made him smile.

“Only if they start publishin’ books about skinny gay cowboys,” he chuckled.

Hanzo snorted in response. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” His voice lowered, suddenly sounding shy. “I really did like them, though. Thank you for sending them.”

“Any time darlin’,” Jesse breathed. “Any time.”

\-------

Despite all of Hanzo’s preparations during reading week, finals were hell, and he hated everything and everyone. Well, almost everyone. He could never hate Jesse, Satya had done nothing to provoke his ire, and Genji was sometimes safe, depending on whether or not he was being a gremlin at the time.

\-------

The plane touched down two hours late because of some bad weather over Oregon, and Hanzo knew he was going to have to hurry once he disembarked: the family had reservations at seven, and here it was 6:35. 

Distracted, he sent a quick text to everyone who had asked him to check in when he was on the ground.

> **To Gremlin, Jesse, Mother:** Just landed in SEA and waiting to get off the plane.

There were three replies, almost simultaneous.

> **From Gremlin:** k cool  
>  **From Mother:** Thank you.  
>  **From Jesse:** glad you made it safe

Hanzo read them once, then a second time: all three were in a single window …? His eyes widened and he nearly choked, realizing with dawning horror just what he had done. 

_Shit_.

The next messages he received were not, thankfully, in the group chat.

> **From Gremlin:** OMG WHO IS THE 505 #?????  
>  **From Gremlin:** IS IT JESSE??????  
>  **From Gremlin:** IT IS JESSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
>  **From Gremlin:** LOLOLOLOLOLOL  
>  ** **From Gremlin:**** OMG MOM SAW

> **From Jesse:** you mean to do that?

His mother was silent.

Hanzo ignored Genji, sending a quick reply to Jesse that no, that wasn’t intentional, apologizing in advance if Genji started messaging him, and telling him not to believe anything his brother said.

That was all he had time for: it was his turn to go, and as soon as he was in the terminal, he ran.

\-------

Hanzo’s mother didn’t say anything about the unknown number in the car. He wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or grateful, but he was going to agonize over it either way and had resigned himself to the fact he would likely continue to do so until something happened.

\-------

It wasn’t until after dinner that Hanzo was able to catch Genji, and he hoped that the fact he hadn’t seen his brother texting much during the meal meant that it wasn’t too late.

“You look like you’re on a mission,” Genji commented warily once Hanzo had let himself into his room after a single knock. Generous, considering Genji usually barged into Hanzo’s room without knocking at all. “Unless you’re just that determined to get your ass kicked at Mario Kart.”

Hanzo sighed as he dropped into the second beanbag chair and picked up a controller. “Sure.” Genji started up the game, picking Yoshi, while Hanzo picked Shy Guy, and they began building their vehicles in quiet.

“So,” Hanzo started partway through. “Uhhh, I fucked up today.”

“Yup.” Genji had his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he set things up, glancing over at Hanzo. “Mom say anything?”

“No.” Hanzo still wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but the stressing over it was wearing him out. “Do I have to ask you not to pester Jesse?”

“Well, you _did_ give me his number …”

“Genji ….” There was a warning note in Hanzo’s voice, and Genji cackled.

“Nah, I won’t text him unless it’s an absolute necessity.” His grin was wide and toothy: Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure he trusted it. Nor was he entirely sure what would constitute an ‘absolute necessity,’ but he felt it was probably better he didn’t ask.

While Hanzo was distracted, Genji selected Rainbow Road as the course, mashing down the start button. With a curse, Hanzo set his jaw and got to racing, letting the concentration it required not to go flying off the course into space take his attention away from everything else for awhile.

\-------

Once the bell for seventh period had rung, Jesse gathered his things and headed out of class toward the English wing, looking for the computer lab that the newspaper staff shared with the animation class. How that worked out was beyond him.

The lab wasn’t huge, about two dozen computer stations arranged around the perimeter at regular intervals. Eight of the monitors on one side of the room had sheets of paper taped to them, each with some variant of “Rendering! Don’t touch!” scrawled across it. Six machines on the other side were occupied by students Jesse assumed were on the newspaper staff, some typing while others fiddled with layout. Jesse didn’t see the journalism teacher, but the editor was there, marking up a page at one of the few freestanding desks in the middle of the room. It was covered in red.

Johanna Torres was one of those students that everyone knew of, but no one knew much about: if she had friends, they all went to school elsewhere. She looked up at Jesse after a moment, not putting down her pen. “If you’re looking for Ms. Jackson, she had to go home early. If you need Mr. Itkin, he went to get some coffee and should be back pretty soon,” she commented, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

“Was lookin’ for Mr. Itkin, thanks,” Jesse answered, pulling up a chair and spinning it around to sit across from her, his good arm draped across the back rest. “Figure I can talk to you ‘til he gets back though, if y’have a minute.”

Johanna’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, gimme a sec.” She looked down to make a few last marks on the sheet in front of her before waving in the direction of the staffers at their computers. “Geoff! _Commas!_ They’re a thing. Good interview questions, though. I like.”

A short, skinny kid whose black hair looked plastered to his head came to collect his paper with a good-natured huff, and Johanna turned back to Jesse. “So what’s up?”

“I was hopin’ to maybe write for the paper next term.” Jesse felt inexplicably nervous with the way she was eyeing him.

“That’s great!” the editor said enthusiastically. Her smile almost looked genuine. “What section do you think you want to write for?”

“Uhhhh …” Jesse reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Maybe news or campus life? I could do op-ed if you needed me to …”

“Oh. That really _is_ great.” Johanna looked surprised, then relaxed and leaned back in her chair, sounding more natural. “I was legit expecting you to say sports, and the last thing I need is another sports writer.” She flipped her frizzy brown hair over her shoulder and pushed the glasses back up on her nose again with a long-suffering grimace. “It’s like everybody wants to write for the sports section, especially the athletes. And then they want to report on their own games and I have to tell them ten million times that they can’t write about a team they’re on, and then they complain that those are the only games they have time to go to because they have practice ... ”

Jesse nodded along as Johanna rambled; she punctuated her words with animated hand gestures. The rest of the staff present ignored her, probably having heard it more than once before.

Honestly, he really wasn’t feeling up to talking to athletes much nowadays. _Their_ pitying looks were always the worst.

“Anyway, are you going to take Advanced Journalism so you get credit for being on the staff, or do you just want to do it after school? You probably won’t get as many stories or first pick of assignments if you’re not in the class, but we can work something out. Or you and Mr. Itkin can work something out, I guess. I honestly have nothing to do with it until you’re ready for an assignment.”

“I’m only in th’ first journalism class, but Miss Mead said she’d recommend me for Advanced Journalism so I c’n be on staff that way.” 

“That’s cool. She did the same for me freshman year. Academic elective plus foreign language equals no PE requirement.” Johanna looked smug, illustrating her comment with unnecessary finger guns.

They talked for a few more minutes about the publishing schedule and how the staff worked until the door opened to a small chorus of “Hey, Mr. Itkin!” The journalism teacher waved at everyone, taking a long drink as he crossed the room to take a seat next to Johanna’s desk, blue velcro sneakers propped up on a chair.

“I had to make a new pot,” Mr. Itkin commented mournfully, setting his cup down on the corner of the desk closest to him. “What brings you here, Jesse?”

“Miss Mead suggested I come talk t’you about bein’ on the newspaper staff next term,” Jesse answered. “She said she’d recommend me for Advanced Journalism.”

“He doesn’t want to write sports,” Johanna added helpfully.

Mr. Itkin’s head bobbed thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t expect him to.” He turned to face Jesse fully. “I’d let you switch to the advanced class even without Miss Mead’s recommendation, considering your work this semester. If you want, you can write something for the last issue before break so you can get an idea of the procedure.”

Jesse nodded with enthusiasm, his heart lightening. “I’d like that. When should I get that ball rollin’?”

“Go ahead and figure out with Johanna now what you want to write. We’re just finishing up this issue, so we’ll be doling out most of the assignments Thursday.” With another long draught of coffee, Mr. Itkin stood, stretching his long legs. “I’m going to see how they’re doing on layout.” 

“Stephanie had a question about page three,” Johanna commented as he turned away, and he changed course to head toward the furthest computer from the desk. She fixed Jesse with a keen eye, and he gulped. “So. Let’s get you set up with a story …”

\------

“... and oh man, the look he gave her - y’know that face your ma gets that can bore a hole in concrete? Imagine that face on an aging hippie in a skinny tie, an’ you c’n guess what it was like.”

Hanzo chuckled through Jesse’s enthusiastic retelling of how he got onto the newspaper staff, the smile lingering on his face even when he was silent and a bloom of warmth in his chest. “So did you keep the story?” he asked when Jesse paused for breath, and a staccato burst of laughter reached his ears.

“Well, yeah, I kept the story! She’d been tryin’ to pawn it off on someone for two weeks, an’ I figured I’d do it as much justice as anyone.” Jesse snorted. “Don’t know what all the fuss is about, people avoidin’ it.”

“I suppose reporting on a new construction project on campus is less interesting to most than a story on club activities or a baseball game.” Hanzo rolled onto his side in bed, snuggling into the down comforter. He eyed the new book on his nightstand, untouched for several days because he would rather talk to Jesse. It could sit for awhile longer.

The sound Jesse made wasn’t quite a laugh. “Baseball season is over, Hanners. But yeah, I get it. That’s why Itkin gave ‘er th’ eye, handin’ it off to the newbie. Figure I’ll jump in with both feet though, since I don’ mind runnin’ around talkin’ to the principal and superintendent and city planner and stuff.”

Hanzo barely heard past the first sentence: Jesse had called him Hanners. It was … cute, and had his heart bouncing around in his chest - had Jesse meant it as an endearment or just a silly nickname? He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“Hey … Han? You okay?”

The earnest question startled Hanzo out of his reverie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, I guess I spaced out a little.”

There was a hum on the other end of the line. “Y’should prolly get some sleep then. It’s after midnight an’ I bet you got early classes at the dojo or somethin’.” Jesse’s voice sounded reluctant.

Hanzo could empathize; hanging up was the last thing he wanted to do. But Jesse was right; at this point, he’d get four hours of sleep if he was lucky. “I suppose so.” He sighed. “Talk to you tomorrow?” 

The smile was warm in Jesse’s voice. “Yeah, talk t’you tomorrow.”

\-------

Crunching across gravel and withered brown grass while walking to school under a crisp, cloudless sky, Jesse flipped through the calendar on his phone. He knew he had an appointment with his physical therapist sometime in the next week or so, and found it on December 14, two days after “Hanzo Shimada’s birthday.”

What? He didn’t remember putting that -- oh, yeah. Hanzo had emailed him a few essays to look at over the past month, and Google was nothing if not a tattle-tale. Jesse grinned, his breath a white cloud in the frigid air. They definitely hadn’t talked about birthdays, so Hanzo probably didn’t know he knew, and anything he did would be a surprise.

But what _should_ he do? He contemplated it, chewing on his bottom lip as he stepped up onto the curb of the sidewalk that led into the school gate. Buying a gift was out of the question -- Hanzo could probably buy a better version of whatever Jesse had thought of, ten times over. Besides, with only five days between then and now (and two of them being a weekend), he wouldn’t necessarily trust the mail to get it there. Jesse didn’t even _have_ his Seattle address.

It hit him just as he walked through the front door: there was something that he could do. Even with only five days between then and now (and two of them being a weekend), he would be able to manage it. He just had to get started.

\-------

Jesse was already tired as he dragged himself up the front steps, having pulled a few late nights so that he had time to work on the story he was writing without changing up his schedule: he still had homework to do, and he wasn’t about to give up his time talking to Hanzo. 

He figured this was day three of less than four hours sleep.

Absently taking the mail from the box before going inside, Jesse dropped it on it’s usual spot on the counter. Flipping through it to check for medical bills even though he had stopped expecting to see any, it took a moment for his sluggish brain to register the smooth grey envelope addressed to him among the ads and credit card offers. Curious, he fished it out to see what it was.

The postmark was from Seattle. Considerably more awake than he was thirty seconds ago, Jesse immediately retreated up the stairs to his room, not wanting to risk sudden company while he opened it. Making sure the door was firmly closed, he sat on the edge of his bed, turning the envelope over to look at the neat, elegant handwriting. Even Hanzo’s penmanship was high class.

Heart hammering in his chest, Jesse slit the envelope open with his pocket knife so as not to damage it, then drew out the piece of paper and the smaller envelope inside. The grey stationary felt just shy of stiff in his hand as he unfolded it.

> _Dear Jesse,_   
>  _Here I uphold my end of the bargain. I hope you aren’t too disappointed, as my pictures aren’t nearly as interesting as what you sent._   
>  _Genji has dubbed the standing one in the suit “the GQ photo.” I’ll let you decide whether it lives up to the name. I recall mentioning that Mother insisted on some in traditional dress, so I’ve included one of those as well. The last one is really only there because you sent three ... I look like a yakuza boss in it. Of course that would be the one my parents chose for the yearbook._   
>  _I am also not good at letters, so I will just say that I will talk to you soon, as it will be true no matter when you are reading this._   
>  _Yours,_   
>  _Hanzo_

Jesse practically held his breath as he slid the photos from their smaller envelope -- he had to admit that Genji was right, looking at the first one: Hanzo leaned in a doorway, his suit jacket thrown artfully over his shoulder and his hair pulled back. His eyes were fixed on something beyond the camera, gaze thoughtful, and Jesse bit his bottom lip looking it over. Wow.

The next photo was the “last one” Hanzo had mentioned in the note. Wearing the suit jacket this time, he was seated in a Chesterfield armchair, fixing the the camera with a stare that suggested he owned it. And everything else. Twice over. One side of Jesse’s mouth twitched up: this photo was of a totally different Hanzo than the one he knew. He could see why his friend seemed to dislike it, even though he looked just as gorgeous as always. The commanding presence was actually pretty hot.

Jesse was curious to see the last photo -- he had learned just enough about traditional Japanese clothes while researching a samurai character for a story a few years back to have imagined half a dozen things Hanzo could be wearing.

The actual photo was far beyond any of the things he had imagined: Hanzo stood in front of a small bridge in some kind of garden, wearing very formal traditional attire that Jesse didn’t even have names for arranged in several perfect layers of blue, white, and grey. His hair -- longer than Jesse would have guessed -- down, Hanzo held a folded fan, and his face had a far-off look to it, dreamy and softly contemplative. It made Jesse want to ki-

He put the photo down and smacked himself in the forehead a few times with the heel of his hand. Those were not thoughts he needed to be having right now. Hanzo was out of his league, out of his reach, out of his _everything_.

Still … Jesse picked up the three photos, looking them over again with a silly grin on his face, then carefully took a picture of each with his phone so that he could carry them around without risking ruin to the originals. Swiping between them, he decided that the selfie Hanzo had sent on Thanksgiving was still his favorite: as beautiful as the photos he had just gotten were, that first one best reflected the Hanzo he knew and lo-

God damn it.

\-------

It seemed as though Jesse had had something to say for the last few minutes while they talked, but Hanzo had learned by now that if he was going to say it, he would do so in his own time. It didn’t help that he sounded tired, but he had brushed it off earlier in the conversation as a poor night’s sleep. Hanzo was beginning to worry about that -- he had said the same thing for the past few days running, and he hoped it wasn’t more of whatever had bothered him so badly in the middle of the night a few weeks ago.

There was eventually a lull in the conversation, and when Jesse cleared his throat more than once, it was obvious he was working up to spitting out whatever was on his mind.

“Y’looked real pretty in the pictures you sent,” Jesse said shyly, and Hanzo hid his blushing face behind his hand even though Jesse couldn’t see him. “‘Course, y’always look pretty, but they were like a different side of ya.”

Stifling a soft laugh, Hanzo ran his fingers through his hair. “Thank you. Although I might beg to differ on the one that went into the yearbook.”

“Aw, I dunno. I think Yakuza Boss Hanzo is the sort o’ pretty where he’d have ya’ tied up on your knees and you’d thank him for it.”

“Oh my god, Jesse!” Hanzo burst out laughing, glad he hadn’t been drinking anything at the time. It would have been all over his laptop. 

“He and Romance Novel Jesse can hang out,” Jesse continued. Hanzo could hardly hear him over his own laughter, and could imagine how Jesse looked right now, eyes crinkling with humor. “I think they’d get along great.”

“What, does Romance Novel Jesse like to be tied up on his knees?” Hanzo barely managed to get the words out.

This time, it was Jesse that burst out laughing.

\-------

When Hanzo finished his workout on December 12, there was a text waiting for him.

> **From Jesse:** Morning darlin, Happy Birthday!

It was accompanied by a link. 

Hanzo’s heart swelled as he stood in the locker room with damp hair and a towel around his shoulders, flattered that Jesse had remembered. It slowly occurred to him to be confused as well.

“Did you tell Jesse it was my birthday?” he asked Genji when he walked out of the showers, dripping on the floor.

“No.” Genji peered over Hanzo’s shoulder at the phone. “I mean, that’s totally something that I would do, except that I didn’t. What’s the link?”

“I don’t know yet.” Hanzo set the phone back down in his locker and started to dress over Genji’s protests. He was burning with curiosity, but he wasn’t about to open it with his brother watching: while it was unlikely that Jesse had sent anything wildly inappropriate, there was no reason to risk giving Genji more ammunition to tease him with.

Genji was not having it. He harassed Hanzo the whole time they were dressing, as they collected their gym bags to return to the car, and as they drove home so that Genji could get ready for school. He also told every single person they passed that it was Hanzo’s birthday, going so far as to hang out the passenger window to inform the driver of the convertible next to them at a red light. Hanzo was mortally embarrassed, and swore to exact his vengeance come February, when Genji would turn sixteen.

It wasn’t until his brother was at school and he had some time to himself that Hanzo flopped down onto his bed to see what Jesse had sent him. The link took him to a document titled ‘Ronin and Desperado,’ last edited at 2:34am.

Jesse had written him a story for his birthday. Hanzo checked the word count: over 20,000 words. Jesse must have spent a lot of time on it -- was that why he had seemed so tired for the past week? The swell of his heart from when he had first opened the text message was nothing compared to the way it seemed ready to burst now, and he forced himself to set the story aside long enough to reply to Jesse’s earlier text.

> **To Jesse:** Thank you, it means a lot. I can’t wait to read it

He didn’t hear back right away, so Jesse must have been in class. Grinning with anticipation, Hanzo snuggled into his duvet to read.

\-------

It was no new feeling for Hanzo to finish reading one of Jesse’s stories and wish it weren’t already over, but this time it was more poignant. Ronin and Desperado -- they were given no other names -- were close friends, occasionally having to work out of separate cities as they chased a group of smugglers across the country. Hanzo couldn’t tell if the romantic tension had been written in intentionally or was just his own wishful thinking, but when they finished their mission at the end, the revelation that their targets were part of a larger operation left the story open for further adventures.

He read it twice over.

At 11:32, the phone rang.

“Hey, happy birthday, darlin,” Jesse said when Hanzo answered. “How’s it treatin’ ya’ so far?”

“It’s been good, thank you. And thank you so much for the story,” Hanzo added earnestly, setting down the clippers he had been using to make some small adjustments to his schleffera in the atrium. “I loved it.”

“Aww, I’m glad it was okay.” Jesse sounded pleased. “I wanted t’do somethin’ for ya’, an’ that seemed like the best thing.”

“It was perfect, I’ve already read it twice.” Smiling into the phone, Hanzo remembered his question from earlier. “But how did you know it was my birthday? I don’t remember ever mentioning it.”

Jesse laughed softly. “Google, actually. Since you’d sent me some emails, it went ahead and added you t’my calendar. Got any plans for the day?”

Oh. Hanzo hadn’t thought of that. Did he have Jesse’s birthday on his calendar somewhere? Hopefully he hadn’t missed it recently. “Nothing in particular. We will most likely go out to dinner.”

“Well that sounds pretty good. I’m at lunch, so I gotta eat real fast an’ get to class, but I just wanted t’make sure I got t’talk to ya before it got too late.”

“Thank you again. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye darlin’! Happy birthday again!”

The warm feeling in Hanzo’s chest stuck with him for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I posted it once when the photo was taken, but now that Hanzo's got his hands on it, I'm posting [Drizzerey's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzerey/pseuds/Drizzerey) [picture of Jesse's under the tree photo](https://drizzerey.tumblr.com/post/175593224141/tevokkia-drizzerey-tevokkia-is-writing-a) *waves it around for everyone to see* Fanart! Woo!
> 
> *The newspaper/animation class room is based on what we had for my high school paper. Mr. Itkin was also borrowed from real life; skinny tie, blue velcro sneakers, coffee addiction, and all. Okay, Jesse himself is pretty much the only thing I didn't pull right out of my Senior year in Advanced Journalism. I have no idea who the editor might be a snarkier, more confident version of. Don't look at me like that. (The sports writer rant lasted through high school newspaper and endured for the entirety of college newspaper, too)


	7. All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas season, and these two are not any less disasterful than any other time of year.
> 
> In fact, they're probably more disasterful.

Jesse had a love/hate relationship with Christmas. As a young child, Christmas had usually meant there was more food than usual in the house, which was good (even if he had to sneak it most of the time). It also meant that he was often stuck inside when his uncle and his uncle’s friends stayed in to drink rather than going out, which was anything but. Christmas in foster care was better, but he had still been rather suspicious of the holiday for the first few years, despite wanting to take part in all of the things he had never experienced before.

Nowadays, he enjoyed everything about Christmas but the nightmares.

\-------

“Okay, it’s your turn to pick.”

Jesse leaned back dangerously far in his chair at the dining room table, which was half covered in recipe cards. Fareeha snatched up one of them and slapped it down again in a different pile without hesitation.

“Lemon bars,” she said with an air of finality, and Jesse chuckled: she always wanted lemon bars. Fortunately, they were easy to make, and she enjoyed doing the squishing-the-crust-down-in-the-pan part that had been made difficult by Jesse’s losing a hand.

“You got it. So we got lemon bars, soft molasses cookies, and those things with the soda crackers. Anything else?”

Perusing the scattered recipe cards as if they were fine wines at a fancy restaurant, Fareeha reached out for one of them several times, only to change her mind at the last minute. Most of these cards were in Jesse’s handwriting, with varying levels of legibility to anyone but him. She could read the titles well enough, though, and Jesse already knew what she was going to choose anyway.

Eventually, the card for white fudge (with extra walnuts) ended up on the pile of things they were baking for the holidays, just as expected. Ana had her own goodies that she always made, but for the past few years, Jesse and Fareeha had made a ritual of choosing together what they’d be making themselves.

“You’re gonna have t’help me with the stirring on this one,” Jesse commented as he let all four legs of his chair hit the floor. He let Ree do most of the picking up of the spare cards in favor of looking over the recipes they had left out so that he could make a grocery list.

“I can stir.” She stuffed everything back into the box. “Have you got something for Mom yet?”

Jesse stopped writing halfways through ‘condensed milk’ and tapped the pen against his lower lip. “Hadn’t decided on anything yet,” he answered after a while. “What you think?”

“I dunno. Stop chewing the pen.”

He hadn’t realized he’d started. “We’ll go shopping. Didn’t she say something about wanting to get a lemon tree?” 

Fareeha scoffed as Jesse finished writing out his short grocery list, the end of the pen sporting a few new teeth marks. “You can’t wrap a tree.”

“No, but you c’n put a bow on th’pot and hide it, and say where you hid it in a card or somethin’.”

“That could be okay, I guess,” she said after a moment. “Are you getting something for your boyfriend?”

Jesse looked up sharply, heart lurching. “We ain’t datin’, Ree.”

“Why not if you like him? You even called him ‘sweetheart’.”

So she had heard that. It kinda’ explained her exploits on Thanksgiving, and in the end, he couldn’t really be mad at her.

“It’s just … we just ain’t.” With a heavy sigh, he stood to put the recipe card box away, Fareeha squinting after him.

\-------

That night after talking to Hanzo for almost two hours, Jesse got started on part two of ‘Ronin and Desperado.’ He had ten days to finish.

\-------

“So, got any big plans for th’holiday?”

“Not too many.” Hanzo scrolled to the end of the page he was on and moved on to the next, not finding what he was looking for. It didn’t help that he had no idea what that was. “Probably going to a few Christmas parties I would rather stay home from and competing with Genji over Christmas cake. We usually have a family dinner on New Year. What are you doing?”

“Ree an’ I figured out what we’re bakin’ this year a couple days ago, so we’re gonna get on that soon.” The enthusiasm in Jesse’s voice was unmistakable. “I mean, we end up doin’ practically th’same things every year, but it’s still fun. I’ll help Ana with her bakin’ too.”

“You must be quite the baker.”

Jesse laughed. “Well, mostly I just bake durin’ the holidays, not so much th’rest of the year. Anyway, we got a little shoppin’ t’do too, but we mostly sit around an’ eat on Christmas, really. Spend some time t’gether. Ana usually pulls out th’card table and this five thousand piece puzzle of flamingos in the snow. It’s the damnedest thing, and hard as hell.”

“I can’t even imagine. I never did many jigsaw puzzles as a child.”

“Aw, neither did I. ‘M pretty sure the flamingo one is th’only one I’ve done, ever.”

Hanzo wasn’t sure whether or not Jesse was exaggerating. “So, what kind of shopping do you still need to do?” Hopefully Jesse would mention something that could help him with his own conundrum: what he was going to do for Jesse for Christmas.

“Not too much.” Hanzo could hear a door opening and closing again; Jesse was probably making sure that no one was in earshot before disclosing his plans. “Ree an’ I are prolly goin’ t’get Ana a lemon tree, since she’d been sayin’ she wanted one and hadn’t gotten around to buyin’ it yet. Should get somethin’ pretty t’plant it in, too, now that I think about it. Soil ‘round here wouldn’t be good for it, so I can’t see her wantin’ t’put it in th’ground.”

“That sounds nice.” Cute, but ultimately not useful. “What about Fareeha?”

The door again. “There’s this basketball jersey she’s been eyein’, an’ I know it’s not what Ana’s gettin’ her, so I’m doin’ that. I think she’ll like it. What’s this about Christmas cake?”

Hanzo smiled. “It’s essentially strawberry shortcake. Genji usually dares me to eat more than him, so I let him fill himself up early in the day and steal the lead after dinner. I’m actually surprised Mother indulges us as much as she does, because somehow there is always enough cake.”

“You both got a mean sweet tooth,” Jesse chuckled. 

\-------

“A’right, you c’n drop in the lemon juice now.”

Jesse’s voice was raised over the manic whir of the mixer on ‘high,’ the kitchen warm from the active oven and smelling almost like shortbread. Fareeha poured her tablespoon full of lemon juice in with the eggs and sugar that Jesse was beating, and they let it froth up as it reacted with the baking powder for a moment before Jesse stopped the mixer.

“Can I put it on the crust now?” Fareeha asked, standing on tiptoe to look into the bowl. 

“Yeah, you’re good.” Jesse checked to make sure the oven was the right temperature. “Be careful you don’t touch th’pan. It’s still hot.”

“I know.”

Jesse watched as Fareeha cautiously poured the frothy lemon bar filling into the hot crust. “Now get th’mitts,” he instructed, opening the oven door for her. “And be real careful gettin’ it back in there so ya’ don’t get burned.” Normally, he handled most of the hot pans, but the kind they always put the lemon bars in just wasn’t shaped well for him to get a good two-handed grip with The Claw. 

Once the oven was safely closed and the timer set for twenty five minutes, Jesse took the bowl and the whisk from the mixer over to the sink to wash. “Y’wanna take a look at the fudge recipe and pull out what we need while I get this?” 

“Got it.” Fareeha fetched the can of condensed milk and the white chips, then pulled a dining chair over to the cupboard to reach the vanilla on the top shelf. “Can I make it by myself?”

Jesse looked over his shoulder at her as he put the bowl in the drying rack. The recipe was three ingredients, the microwave, and a whole lot of walnuts afterward, so he figured she could manage. “Sure thing, Ree. You wanna get the walnuts ready first, or you want me t’do it for you while you get the rest of it put together?”

Fareeha hummed contemplatively while she opened the milk can. “I can do it,” she said after a minute, putting the can aside. Jesse supervised.

“Still okay with gettin’ the lemon tree?” he asked while she broke walnut halves into smaller pieces, and reached around her to snag one to pop into his mouth.

“Hey!” Fareeha laughed and swatted at Jesse’s hand. “Yeah, I guess. Can we go tomorrow? We can ask Cassie if we can hide it in her greenhouse so Mom won’t find it.”

“Gotta figure out how we’re gettin’ it home, first,” Jesse answered, swallowing the first walnut and dodging his hand around Fareeha’s playful blocking to get another. “Nursery’s too far t’walk, and I’m not sure if they’ll let us bring a tree on the city bus, even a little one. ‘Sides, we’re gonna want t’get a nicer pot to put it in than those plastic things, and that’s gonna be heavy.”

“Yeah.” Ree sighed, scrunching up her nose. Jesse got the feeling that she was thinking something along the lines of ‘too bad you don’t drive,’ and appreciated her not saying it aloud.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the kitchen was the irregular snapping of the walnuts as Fareeha broke them down, punctuated by the occasional crunching when Jesse stole one. They were both thinking hard.

“I bet we could take it on th’bus if we don’t get one that’s too tall,” Jesse said finally. “I can set it b’tween my feet. And the pot’ll probably fit in my sports bag.”

Fareeha screwed up her face, trying to imagine it. “Well, if it could fit a helmet for your big head, it could probably fit a pot.”

“Hey, there.” Jesse shoved her shoulder playfully. “Sounds like we got a plan, then. Anything else you want t’pick up while we’re out? Before we get the tree?”

“Dunno. Maybe I’ll think of something else?”

Fareeha finished the fudge while Jesse put together a dinner to slip into the oven once they were done baking, and the two of them got started on the molasses cookies. They were just taking the last batch out to cool when Ana came home to a kitchen that smelled of ginger and cinnamon.

\-------

Jesse jerked into wakefulness with a gasp, his arm flying up to shield his face from something that wasn’t really there. Not anymore, anyway. He exhaled, the breath shuddering and not quite a sob as it left his lungs, skin sticky with sweat in the dark. 

Letting his arm fall across his eyes, Jesse kicked off the covers in hopes that the chill night air would help to quell his heart hammering in his chest, the compulsion to run and hide. Where would he go? The rational part of his brain told him that he was safe here, had been for a long time. The irrational part catalogued every little phantom injury his memory had dredged up as they faded from his consciousness, whispering insidious things he’d rather not dwell on.

Blindly, Jesse reached out for the pack of gum on his nightstand, fingers fumbling across the scratched surface and nearly knocking over his empty water glass before finding what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, slowly chewing and trying to focus on the vague burn of the hot cinnamon on his tongue, before the sheen of sweat that covered him had chilled enough to make him shiver.

The blankets were wadded up at the end of the bed, and Jesse pulled them back over himself with shaking fingers. He should try to get back to sleep, but closing his eyes only invited mutated versions of scenes he’d rather forget to replay themselves on the insides of his eyelids.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long until morning.

\-------

Hanzo’s bedroom door flew open, and he didn’t even have to turn and look to know that it was Genji invading his space. The telltale clink of the marble hitting the inside of a ramune bottle came in with him, and Hanzo grumbled under his breath.

“Spill that in my room and I will murder you.”

“You can try,” Genji teased as he came to a stop next to Hanzo’s shoulder, humming at the list of crossed-out ideas on the desk. Hanzo scrolled to the end of the page he was on before half-turning to look up at him.

“I see you still haven’t figured out what you’re doing for Jesse for Christmas.” 

Hanzo sighed in exasperation, but it was all directed at himself. “No. What are you getting for …?”

“Charity Jean-Pierre. There was this designer purse she wanted, so it was super easy.” Genji took another drink before glancing between the messy not-list, the monitor, and his brother. “You look like you’re trying to put a lot of effort in. Or at least agonizing about it. You sure you two aren’t dating? Does he know that only couples usually exchange gifts?”

“I’m sure, and we’re not in Japan.” Hanzo groaned, leaning forward to put his forehead on his desk. “I just don’t know what to do. Jesse did something so sweet on my birthday, and it’s something he could repeat at Christmas, and I know he really likes doing things like that, but everything I’ve come up with for him so far has just felt so … I don’t know.” His voice was muffled slightly by the fall of his long hair. “Hollow?”

Genji hummed again. He must have picked that up from their mother. “You never did tell me what he did for your birthday.”

“I don’t plan to, either.” 

Sitting down on Hanzo’s bed and placing his already-empty ramune bottle on the nightstand, Genji crossed his legs, elbows propped on knees. “I could help you brainstorm. I mean, it would be easier if I knew what kind of thing you were shooting for, but whatevs.”

Hanzo turned his head so that he could look at his brother, reaching up to flip the hair out of his eyes. “I guess. Nothing else is working so far.”

Genji looked delighted and shifted, obviously settling in to stay awhile. “Okay, so you told me he writes, and he likes Westerns, and he’s all dressed as a cowboy in that picture you showed me. What else?”

“Uhhh ... “ Hanzo’s mind scrabbled for something that would be helpful, but he wasn’t sure exactly what that would be. “He bakes? He and his sister just did a lot of holiday baking, and he told me he cooks often, but I didn’t really ask if it was something he enjoyed doing. He runs every day and hikes when time permits. He and his mother grow succulents, and he really likes cacti. He just joined the staff of the student newspaper, but I doubt that really matters at this point.” He sighed heavily. “I am so terrible at this.”

“Yup, worst boyfriend ever.” Genji rolled his eyes, and Hanzo was tired enough to let the comment slide. “Buy hey, you’re trying, right? So … what’s his biggest thing right now?”

Hanzo sat up and leaned back in his chair, thinking as he stared at the ceiling fan. He could practically feel Genji’s eyes.

“He actually hasn’t had a lot of time for any of his hobbies since the school year started. He’s been so busy with senior year, and work, and college and scholarship applications that he’s barely written anything outside of schoolwork. I don’t think he’s gone hiking since the summer.” He wasn’t going to tell his brother, but Hanzo got the impression that right now, Jesse was often just trying to keep his head above the water until things settled down. That Jesse hadn’t shared with him what some of those things were was something he could worry about later.

There must have been something on Hanzo’s face to indicate his thoughts had gone dark, because he was suddenly hit with one of his own pillows. He jerked his head up to glare at Genji, but his expression softened when he saw the concern on his brother’s face.

“Hey, focus. I know how you get, and you gotta figure this out.” Genji huffed. “Can you at least tell me what sort of thing he did so I have something to work with? You’re killin’ me here.”

“He … made something for me.”

Genji whistled. “Weird, but charming, I guess. Suppose it works if you’re deadass broke.”

A bright spot of anger flared up in Hanzo’s stomach, and he bared his teeth at his brother. “I will hit you,” he growled, surging forward with his arm pulled back halfway. Genji’s eyes widened and he put his hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Your cinnamon roll cowboy’s cash flow is off limits, got it.”

Hanzo dropped back into his seat, arm relaxed, but still glowered at his brother.

“Uhhh, why don’t you just make him something too, then?”

Slumping, Hanzo rested his cheek on his fist. “I don’t know how to make anything, Genji.” His voice was plaintive.

“Uh, art, duh. What about all those shodo and sumi-e classes you took? And that life drawing class and the pen calligraphy classes you ended up in because it was the closest thing Mom found to put you in when we moved and she wanted to make sure you were still doing something artsy? You were actually pretty good at that.”

Hanzo furrowed his brows, gears turning in his head. “I’ve hardly touched any of that since sophomore year,” he said hesitantly.

“Well, if you just try hard enough, things will work out, won’t they?” Genji grinned as he got up from Hanzo’s bed.

“Did you … just quote Pokemon at me? The dub?”

“It seemed like the thing to do.” Genji laughed. “Anyway, the real reason I came in here is ‘cause Mom says that yes, you have to go to that party on Friday, yes, both Valentina and Marceline are coming with their parents, no, you can’t hide in the Parkinson’s solarium all night to avoid them, and please don’t hibernate in your room all day because she wants to take us suit shopping this afternoon.”

Hanzo groaned at every single one of those points, and Genji laughed as he walked out. At least he shut the door behind him, even if he had left his ramune bottle.

Self-doubt prickling at his nerves, Hanzo stared for a long time at the drawer he kept his art supplies in. He couldn’t remember the last time he had opened it, but he did now, slowly, before peering inside. The brushes were still all laid out in a neat row from the smallest, a tiny thing only a few hairs thick, to the largest, the base as big around as his thumb before tapering to a point. A case of pencils of different hardnesses sat next to another of soft-lead colored pencils in more shades than he had had reason to use during the class, and a dozen bottles of different inks took up more than a quarter of the drawer by themselves. A set of fineline pens in black and red and sepia was tucked in next to them, sharing space with a collection of calligraphy nibs. Another small case held the hanko seal his mother had had made for him to sign his work with.

He hated to admit it, but Genji was right. 

Taking a deep breath, Hanzo began choosing things from the drawer and setting them on his desk with an air of resolve. He could do this. It was just after 10 am on December 17th, and if he got enough practice in, he could manage to finish something that was nice enough to give to Jesse. He could probably even distract himself from the tedium of the party by planning just what he was going to do.

Thank goodness for overnight shipping.

\--------

Panting in the darkness, Jesse tried unsuccessfully to control his breathing. It was worse than last night, far worse than the nightmares he had any other time of year. Never so bad as the first couple of winters he had lived here, though: those years, he had awoken screaming more nights than not, bringing Ana running and Fareeha sleepily plodding in behind her to see what the noise was about.

He had managed to be quieter after that. As far as he knew, Ana wasn’t aware he still had these particular nightmares. She didn’t need to be.

It would be okay. He would be okay. He’d deal with it by himself.

If he spent the rest of the night in the closet, no one would know but him.

\-------

It was a group effort to get the rosemary bush into the house. 

The thing weighed over fifty pounds, and the pot, something that Jesse had picked out at the age of twelve, was an awkward shape to pick up and carry, so they usually ended up walking it around the back door and into its usual spot in the living room before wrestling it onto the one sturdy end table that was rarely used for anything else. Every year, Ana said that she was just going to leave it indoors once it was done playing at being a Christmas tree, and every year, it somehow ended up back outside by the end of February.

The ‘tree’ was mostly for Jesse, having been bought shortly after he started living with the Amaris. Ana, who was Muslim and hadn’t really celebrated before, had wanted to make better memories during what was a difficult time of year for her new ward, and seven-year-old Fareeha had been delighted with the novelty. It had stuck.

This year, Jesse and Fareeha sat on the floor, a bowl of popcorn in front of Fareeha as she ate nearly as much as she strung. The old cookie tin where Jesse kept the rest of the things they put on the bush sat in his lap.

“Are you ever gonna replace that tinsel?” Fareeha inquired around a mouthful of popcorn as she checked the length of her string. Not long enough.

“Naw.” Jesse smiled sentimentally at the little packet of silver strands as he set it aside to be put on nearly last. It was the same one from his first Christmas here, which he painstakingly picked off the bush and smoothed out again every January to be used again the following year. “An’ I don’t see how you c’n eat that without salt.”

Fareeha stuck her tongue out and went back to stringing popcorn, while Jesse endeavored to untangle the single strand of colored lights that he swore he had wrapped neatly before putting away. This year, he was going to wrap it around a piece of cardboard. He finished before she did, and had just completed getting them wound around the bush to his liking when the popcorn was ready to be draped over the spiny little branches. They clipped on the dozen tiny red cardinals -- they were sparse, the bush having grown since they had been bought, but he never seemed to remember to get more -- and strung the tinsel on together before Jesse let Fareeha put the small gold star on the top.

Ana smiled, watching them from her spot on the couch with her paper and coffee, a plate of both molasses and anise cookies on the coffee table next to two mugs of hot chocolate. Once her children had plugged in their tree, they piled onto the couch with her, Fareeha bringing her nearly-empty bowl of popcorn.

Jesse leaned his head on Ana’s shoulder as he sipped from his mug, savoring the flavor of chocolate mixing with anise. Ree had maneuvered herself so that she was lounging across the both of them with her head in her mother’s lap, waiting for her drink to cool a little longer. Closing his eyes, Jesse felt, for a little while, absolutely content.

\-------

Quiet sobs wracked Jesse’s body as he curled into himself, tee shirt sticking to his skin and his hair curling damply against his neck. He could practically smell the cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey and body odor and blood, could practically taste the latter in his mouth and feel the cigarette burns. 

He didn’t want to deal with this by himself anymore.

Jesse wasn’t sure when he reached for his phone, only found himself tapping out a short message and hitting ‘send.’

> **To Hanzo:** you awake?

He immediately regretted it, wanted to reel the message back: he didn’t need to be bothering Hanzo right now. Maybe he would be asleep. Maybe he wouldn’t hear the message, wouldn’t read it until morning. Maybe Jesse would have until then to figure out what he was going to say when his friend asked why he was texting at … what time was it? 3:36. Why he was texting at 3:36 in the morning.

> **From Hanzo:** are you okay?

Jesse debated with himself, but his fingers seemed to move of their own accord.

> **To Hanzo:** no

> **From Hanzo:** ill call you

The phone rang almost before Jesse had gotten a chance to read the text.

“Hey,” he said softly when he answered, and cringed at how much his voice managed to shake in that single syllable.

“Hey,” Hanzo answered, sounding sleepy. Jesse’s text must have woken him, and he felt a wave of guilt break over him. “What’s wrong?”

“I …” This was the part Jesse dreaded, the part he hadn’t thought out. The part where he had to make a conscious decision whether to trust. His heartbeat raced just as it had when he had first awakened. “I get nightmares, real bad ones, this time o’year,” he said thickly. “I just …” 

He trailed off, not sure what else to say without explaining where the nightmares came from. “Sorry for wakin’ ya. I should let ya get back to sleep.”

“No, don’t be sorry, it’s fine. That’s why you’ve been tired all week?”

“Yeah.”

Hanzo sighed, his voice soft. “I’m sorry, Jesse. You can call. Any time. I don’t mind if you wake me.” He sounded less sleepy now. “Anything I can do? Would you like to talk about them? Or want me to try and talk you back to sleep?”

“Naw, y’don’t have t’do that.” Jesse rested his back against the headboard, his body beginning to calm even if his mind hadn’t quite gotten there yet. It was nice of Hanzo to offer, nice of him to say he could call any time, but Jesse couldn’t see himself bothering him as often as his terrors reared their ugly heads. “I’d- I’d rather just talk with ya’, if that’s okay. Not about … not about the nightmares or nothing. Just … talk.”

The smile in Hanzo’s voice was audible and comforting. “Okay. Why don’t you tell me about your tree? You had started to earlier and we got distracted.”

Jesse started on the story he had meant to tell the previous evening, the warmth of Hanzo’s gentle commentary melting the ice that had gripped at his heart. He told more of the story behind the tree than he had meant to, really, but it was somehow okay. They talked, feeling increasingly drowsy as time went on, until well after sunrise. 

Ana found him nodding off with his phone still held to his ear when she came up to ask if he wanted breakfast.

\-------

“You look like shit.”

Jesse blinked blearily at Maggie as he clocked in, inhaling the woodsy scent of the few leftover Christmas trees that leaned, their branches wrapped, against the wall just outside.

“Thanks, nice t’see you too,” he mumbled. He was normally better at faking being at least semi-rested, but he knew that this morning, the circles carved beneath his eyes were bruise-dark. Ana had balked at his trying to come to work today when neither coffee nor eggs drenched in hot sauce had brought even a semblance of alertness to his face, but he had persisted.

“Nuh uh, normally you’re the ray of fucking sunshine that nobody asked for first thing in the morning.” Maggie eyed him, going so far as to grab Jesse’s chin to inspect him better when he was too sluggish to dodge. “You pull an all-nighter?”

“C’mon, I just had a rough night.” Jesse stepped backward so that her hand fell away from his face and moved to go see whether there were any shipments left over from the previous day for him to start putting out. 

“Jacksooooooooooooon!”

Cringing at his co-worker’s screech, Jesse turned to squint at her as the manager trundled over.

“Holy hell, son, what’s wrong with you?”

Jesse sighed heavily. “‘M just tired,” he replied, petulant, as he wiped his hand down his face. “‘S no big deal.”

Jackson grunted. “Go on home, son. I’m not gonna be the one to have to tell yer ma ya hurt yerself ‘cause ya fell asleep.”

“I just got here!” Jesse protested.

“I appreciate your coming in, but you’re not fit to work. Now go on. Don’t make me have to call yer ma to come pick ya up, either.”

Jesse deflated, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Yes, sir.”

\-------

The good thing about going back to bed on Saturday morning was that the nightmares didn’t plague him so much during the day. Almost as good was waking up a little after noon to find a hot plateful of his favorite tamales waiting for him downstairs.

Jesse suspected that Ana guessed the reason for his rough night but chose not to say anything, and he loved her a little more for it.

He spent much of the rest of the day on the story he was writing, knowing that it would require some heavy editing when he was more awake. Ana hovered a little, regularly bringing him hot chocolate at his chosen workplace on the couch and pausing to gently ruffle his hair.

\-------

> **To Jesse:** shoot me now

> **From Jesse:** that bad, huh?

> **To Jesse:** i hate these parties

> **From Jesse:** sorry darlin  
>  **From Jesse:** sneak away for a bit?

> **To Jesse:** yes. I just needed a few minutes  
>  **To Jesse:** the daughters of some of fathers associates are relentless  
>  **To Jesse:** theres one my age and one a year younger  
>  **To Jesse:** and theyre both brats

> **From Jesse:** that sucks. They botherin you ?

> **To Jesse:** one of them  
>  **To Jesse:** ALL NIGHT  
>  **To Jesse:** here comes genji

Genji stopped, hands shoved in his pockets, a few feet short of where Hanzo was leaning against the wall.

“Mom totally just grabbed me by the collar and said ‘go get your brother out of the solarium’.”

Hanzo groaned as he pushed off the wall, walking back into the hall with his brother beside him. “She told me that I couldn’t hide in here all night. She did not say that I couldn’t for any of the night.”

Genji shrugged. “Yeah, well, Valentina was asking about you. You haven’t danced with her yet.”

“I don’t want to dance with her.”

“If you do, she might leave you alone.”

Hanzo side-eyed him. “Do you really believe that?”

“No, but it was worth a try.”

They stepped through the double doors back into the Parkinson’s ballroom, and were immediately assaulted with a wall of noise, the music merely a background to the cacophony of laughing and chatter. The lights were too bright, pinpoints blinking off of the cut crystals in the chandelier and from the fairy lights twined in the garlands decorating every available mantle and pillar.

“Good luck,” Genji said with a smirk, slipping away toward the dance floor and abandoning Hanzo to his fate as they spotted Valentina weaving through the crowd toward him. 

Hanzo stood up straight and schooled his features into his best neutral expression, the one just shy of a scowl that Genji called his resting bitch face. 

Valentina seemed unaffected, giving him what she probably thought was a sultry smile and standing with her hip jutted out, leaning forward just enough to give Hanzo an unobstructed, unwanted view of her cleavage. He kept his eyes trained on her face, which was, while otherwise lovely, covered in so much makeup that she looked more like a reality television star than a highschool student.

“Hanzo, you haven’t danced with me yet,” she cooed, reaching out to grab his hand. He reluctantly let her take it.

“Just one, Miss Gallo,” he said calmly, even though his inner self was grinding his teeth. Once she had managed to drag him onto the dance floor, she took his other hand and placed it low on her hip. He moved it to somewhere higher and more gentlemanly, wondering whether there was a subtle way to lean out of her attempts to press her chest to his. It was tempting, for a split second, to out himself to the entire party just to get out of the dance, but Hanzo was sure he’d be in even more trouble doing that than he would have just turning her down flat.

Three minutes in, Valentina had her head resting on Hanzo’s shoulder and was looking up at him through her false lashes. “Since you like sneaking off so much, why don’t we sneak off together after this?” she purred.

“No thank you,” Hanzo said simply, and Valentina pouted. 

“Why not?”

“It would hardly be appropriate, considering I am currently seeing someone.”

“Oh!” Valentina stepped back, removing her hand from where it had strayed dangerously close to Hanzo’s ass. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Who are you seeing?”

“I hadn’t assumed it mattered.” Why hadn’t he thought of this excuse before? It was perfect, and didn’t even have to be entirely true, considering he was living away for most of the year now. “And they attend school in another state, so you wouldn’t have met them.”

“Huh. Okay then. Well, this song is over and you said just one, so have a good rest of the party.”

With that, Valentina was gone, disappearing between the other bodies in the crowd and hopefully going to bestow her attentions on someone who would appreciate them more. Hanzo wished her luck.

Genji found Hanzo while he was getting something to drink, having spent a few minutes chatting with one of the attendees who was in the business program at NYU before the other had wandered off to find his sister.

“I saw Valentina dip out pretty fast. How much trouble you in?”

“Hopefully none.” Hanzo took a sip from his flute of sparkling cider and shrugged. “I told her I was seeing someone and she was suddenly no longer interested.”

“Wow.” Genji looked stunned. “That’s … why didn’t we think of that before?”

“I was wondering the same thing.” Hanzo shook his head with a wry smile. “Probably the only reason she hasn’t bothered you is that you’re constantly dating someone.”

“Eh, I’m two years younger than her, and not as buff as you. Besides, I think she has a thing for long hair.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes.

The rest of the party was almost tolerable. Marceline, who Hanzo feared just as much as Valentina but for different reasons, had actually brought a date. He also managed to take up a few different strategic positions so that his parents saw him conversing with other partygoers several times during the night, which left him ample opportunity to step away for a few minutes at a time to exchange a handful of texts with Jesse or to zone out under the guise of people-watching so that he could plan his art project.

When Hanzo told Jesse about the Valentina incident and his using the excuse he was seeing someone to beg off, he had replied with a ‘lol, you’ll have to tell me about this person youre seein.’ Hanzo was glad he was joking, because he wasn’t about to admit that he had been thinking of Jesse when he said it.

\-------

Hanzo wiped the excess ink off his brush, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he bent to make a tiny adjustment to a leaf edge. Satisfied, he sat up to cast a critical eye over the rest of the paper, looking for anything else that needed to be fixed before he turned the hair dryer on it to set the ink.

It was the best he could do. 

Never mind the dozens of rejected attempts discarded in a stack on the floor, waiting to be recycled. Never mind the two frazzled trips out to Blick for more Bristol paper and a color of ink that he didn’t have but absolutely needed. Never mind the entire sketchbook of discarded designs and pages that had had too many erase marks to keep going. He had even taken to hauling the thing around with him, quietly sketching during times that his presence, if not his interaction, were required, and drawing thumbnails during the occasional car trip where he was a passenger.

Hanzo’s father had seemed puzzled, but had not commented. His mother had seemed sedately pleased that he had taken up art again. Genji had looked at his reject pile and informed him that ‘the difference between the novice and the master is that the master has failed more times than the novice has tried’ in a grave tone. Hanzo had kicked him out of his room at that point, not in the mood for inspirational quotes from shonen manga.

It was noon on the 23rd, and Hanzo just needed to mat his work before he could send it on it’s way. Hopefully it would make it to Santa Fe on time.

\-------

Jesse was debating whether to send Hanzo his story now, late at night on Christmas eve, or wait for the morning.

It had been a good day: Ana had come home just before noon from an early shift, taking a few hours’ nap before getting up to help Jesse with the prep for supper. Jesse himself had slept late into the morning and also taken an afternoon nap, having slept little the previous night and expecting to be awake most, if not all, of the next. 

He and Fareeha had snuck over to Ree’s friend’s house two doors down while Ana was sleeping to collect the lemon tree they had stashed in their greenhouse the week before. The gift would be safe enough in their own garden shed at this point, and they needed to replant it into the heavy decorative pot they had picked out before Ana woke. Jesse could always move it into the house sometime during the night. 

They had spent the rest of the day relaxing, eating the treats they had made and drinking Jesse’s spiced cider.

While Ree was on the phone with her father during the afternoon, Jesse had spoken to Hanzo as well; Hanzo had been on his third piece of Christmas cake for the day. Genji was reportedly on his fifth. He had also sounded a little nervous, but insisted that it was nothing when asked.

The house was now quiet. Setting aside his ‘now or later’ conundrum for the time being, Jesse crept downstairs in stocking feet, avoiding the spot in the middle of the fifth step that always creaked. It was a little warmer there than in the bedrooms, the oven having been on much of the day, and Jesse leaned against the counter to soak up the heat. The kitchen was cozy, friendly: the smell of cider and cinnamon still hung in the air, and the light filtering through the window was multi-hued from the over-enthusiastic light display across the street.

Maybe he should just stay down here tonight. It would be the third year running that he had remained awake Christmas Eve night; there was no point in sleeping when he could expect some of the worst nightmares of an already bad season, and nobody in the house was expected to do much other than eat and do jigsaw puzzles on Christmas day anyway. 

Besides, this was where the cookies were. Staying down here was only logical. At least that’s what he told himself.

First, though, he had a lemon tree to bring in. Jesse left his extra-warm spot to go to the front door (which had a far less squeaky hinge then the back), and slipped his feet into his boots. He went the long way around the house to the garden shed, leaving prints in the faint dusting of snow on the ground. This had been poor planning on his part, he reflected as he looked at the tree: it was particularly heavy in its new pot, and his prosthetic was not shaped correctly to grip any part of it. Stupid Claw.

He had two options: either recruit Fareeha to help him first thing in the morning and hope that she woke before Ana did, or reveal the location of the gift in a card like he had initially suggested.

Crestfallen, Jesse slumped back around the house and resigned himself to making a card when he got back inside: the tree would be just as much of a hassle to get back outside as it would be to bring it in, and he didn’t want to assume Ana would decide to keep it indoors. At least decorating the card nicely would take up a portion of his night, especially considering his less-than-stellar art skills.

Jesse shivered slightly in his flannel pajamas, looking forward to being back in the warm kitchen as he rounded the corner of the house and started up the steps. He paused; there was a package leaning against the wall next to the door that he hadn’t noticed on the way out. When had that gotten here? It had to have been sometime after three, when he and Fareeha had come in from their earlier lemon tree adventures. Still wondering, he scooped it up on the way in so that he could take a look at it without freezing to death.

The wall of heat leached the chill from Jesse’s skin, and he sighed as he toed off his untied boots in the entryway. He trundled into the kitchen, the contrast in temperature between there and outdoors nearly making him sleepy. (Nearly. Nothing could convince him to actually close his eyes tonight.) It was with great effort that he refrained from examining the package before he had sat down at the kitchen table, itching to know who it was for and who it was from. Settled, he turned it over.

The package was for him. Sender: Hanzo Shimada.

Jesse’s heart caught in his throat, and he wondered whether this had anything to do with Hanzo’s nerves earlier. Probably; Hanzo was like that. They both were.

Resisting the urge to open it right then and there, Jesse checked the time: 1:46 am. Well, it was technically Christmas now. He wanted so badly to message Hanzo to thank him for whatever this was and send him the new story he had written, but didn’t want to wake him. Then again, Hanzo was an hour behind him, and if he had been nervous earlier it was possible he was stressing now. By letting him know the package had arrived, he could let his friend actually get some sleep tonight.

He had better send the message.

> **To Hanzo:** Merry Christmas darlin! Sorry to message you so late, but I just found a package next to my door from a Mr. Shimada and wanted to make sure he was aware it had arrived.  
>  **To Hanzo:** Also, I wanted to send you your present

Jesse added the link, and the response was just short of immediate.

> **From Hanzo:** Merry Christmas, and it’s okay, I was up. Did they just deliver it?!  
>  **From Hanzo:** Thank you! I can’t wait to take a look  
>  **From Hanzo:** have you opened your package yet?

> **To Hanzo:** no, was waiting to talk to you  
>  **To Hanzo:** and also no, they delivered it earlier and either didn’t knock or we didn’t hear. i had just gone outside a minute ago

> **From Hanzo:** i’m glad. i’d like to be on the phone with you when you do open it

> **To Hanzo:** is it good to call now, or would you rather wait for morning

The phone rang, and Jesse hurried to answer it before it made too much noise.

“Hey darlin,” he said with a quiet laugh, attaching his earpiece and dropping his phone into his pocket to free his hand. “You’re sure eager.”

“I was afraid it wouldn’t make it on time.” Hanzo sounded relieved. “I hope you like it,” he added shyly.

“Since it’s from you, I’m sure I will.”

Carefully, Jesse opened the stiff envelope, sliding out the two sheets of cardboard with something sandwiched in between. He held his breath as he lifted to top sheet, and could tell by the audible inhale from Hanzo that he was holding his breath, too.

Inside were four ink paintings, originals, in white mattings. Each had a different kind of echeveria he grew in his own garden, its name written in an old-fashioned display script along the bottom and a string of Japanese calligraphy down the side. In the corner between them was a small red stamp and a tiny signature he couldn’t read.

“These are beautiful,” Jesse breathed, hardly daring to touch the paintings as he set them out in a square on the kitchen table and turned on a light so that he could see them properly all at once.

“You like them?” Hanzo’s voice was tentative, as though he feared that Jesse wouldn’t.

“Aw, I love ‘em. Where’d ya even find somethin’ like this?”

“I … painted them.” There was hesitation and a hint of embarrassment in Hanzo’s voice that absolutely, positively didn’t belong there. 

“Sweetheart.” That had slipped out but Jesse didn’t care at this point. “You been holdin’ out on me, bein’ able to wield a brush like this an’ never sayin’ anything about it this whole time. These’re gorgeous.”

There was a little laugh from Hanzo’s end. “I hadn’t drawn or painted anything in a few years,” he said. The hint of shyness and embarrassment was still there, but this time it bespoke of being flattered rather than fearing rejection, and Jesse was okay with that. “I … actually picked it up again just for this.”

Jesse sucked in a breath and had to sit back down, shaken in the best way that Hanzo had resumed something he had set aside long before now for him. “I’m … I … I am so honored,” he said softly, his voice husky as he struggled with his words. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, but that he had too much to say, and some of those things were best left unsaid. “This is one of th’nicest gifts anyone’s ever given me.” 

Hanzo sighed, and even that went straight to Jesse’s heart. “I’m so glad you like them. I wasn’t sure what to do for awhile, and then I was afraid I wouldn’t finish on time.” 

“Shoot darlin’, if this is you on a tight schedule pickin’ it up again out of cobwebs, I can’t imagine what you’d be like doin’ it on the regular at your own pace.”

“I’m not sure I’d be nearly as motivated.”

Jesse wasn’t sure how to reply to that. “You haven’t gotten to see yours yet.”

“If it’s what I think it is, it will take me some time to properly experience and enjoy it.” The smile in Hanzo’s voice was unmistakable.

“You got me pegged. Hope it doesn’t disappoint.” 

“Never.”

They talked for a little longer before Jesse shoo’ed Hanzo off to sleep, neglecting to mention that he had no intention of doing the same and knowing that Hanzo would probably stay up to read his present anyway. Jesse sat gazing at his paintings for awhile after that, taking them in as a group before gingerly picking up each to appreciate them individually. Finally, he stacked them carefully and set them somewhere safe until he could get them up on a wall.

By now, Jesse only had three or four more hours to go until there would be other people awake for the day and he would just have to get through New Year’s to be (more or less) safe from the worst of his night terrors for another year. Just enough time help himself to a plate of cookies, get that card made, and get some Christmas morning cinnamon rolls into the oven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I will now gift you all with my great-grandma's lemon bar recipe  
> Crust: 1 cup flour, 1/2 cup butter, 1/4 cup powdered sugar. Combine flour and powdered sugar, cut (cold) butter into it, and mix until it's a soft dough. Press it into a 8"x8" (or 9"x9") glass pan, making sure to press some halfway up the sides. Bake at 350 degrees f for 20mins. Filling: 2 eggs, 1 cup sugar, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Beat sugar and eggs together, add baking powder and salt, then lemon juice last. Continue beating until fluffy, pour into hot crust, and bake an additional 25 minutes. Cool before cutting. (I like to substitute the lemon juice for lime and make lime bars, too)  
> *Because I love you, I will also gift you with the easiest white fudge recipe ever  
> Ingredients: 2 12oz bags white baking chips, 1 14oz can of sweetened condensed milk, 1 tablespoon vanilla extract, mix-ins to taste (original recipe called for 1 cup chopped walnuts). Pour chips and condensed milk into microwave safe bowl, microwave for 25 seconds, stir. Repeat 20-second intervals in the microwave, stirring in between, until smooth. Mix in vanilla extract and mix-ins (I like extra walnuts, but a mix of walnuts and dried cranberries is also super good). Spread up to an inch thick in a greased and/or wax paper-lined pan and allow to cool (I use a 9"x13" pan or therabouts). Cut into pieces once firm.  
> *I'm not typing up the entirety of any of the cookie recipes here, but if you really want them, you can always hit me up  
> *It took me forever to find a stupid manga or anime quote that would fit. The fact Hanzo could be affronted by the quote being from the dub was even better.  
> *Rosemary bushes make excellent faux Christmas trees that smell good and can be easily trimmed into a nice Christmas tree shape. Too bad I can never keep one alive.  
> *The novice and master quote is attributed to various people on the internet, but Genji is quoting Korosensei from Assassination Classroom  
> *I'm pretty sure the package delivery guy didn't knock. They do that to me all the time.  
> *My mom always made cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning breakfast, but I can never quite get her recipe right.


	8. Kodak Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News, chickens, and brotherly plotting

It was a little on the late side when Jesse got home: Wednesday was press day for the newspaper, and even though he didn’t have a hand in layout, he had started staying to help fact check sidebars, brainstorm headlines with the section editors, or run out to get the odd photo that they hadn’t thought they needed but absolutely couldn’t go to print without. By three in the afternoon, Johanna had been complaining that he hadn’t joined the staff sooner.

The smell of chicken and onions and herbs hung in the air. Whatever Ana was making must have been in the oven, considering the absence of noise at the stove, and her voice filtered down from upstairs as a muffled shout.

“Jesse? You have a letter on the counter!”

“Thanks Ana!” he called back, detouring into the kitchen to see what he had gotten. Curiosity and excitement warred with the nerves that threatened to turn his stomach: there were only a few things that he was expecting at this time of year. 

The envelope sitting propped against the bowl where Ana tended to drop her keys when she came home was from the University of New Mexico, and Jesse let his backpack slide down his arm to the ground as he gingerly picked it up. Ana appeared next to him, smiling.

“Go on and open it,” she urged gently when he turned to her with trepidation.

Jesse nodded, and opened the envelope with trembling fingers, drawing out the parchment inside. He glanced over at Ana once more, receiving a nod of encouragement before he unfolded it. 

> _Dear Mr. McCree,_
> 
> _It is with great pleasure that I inform you that you have been accepted for admittance into the University of New Mexico. Our faculty and staff pride ourselves on …_

“I got in,” Jesse said softly, reading through the letter the first time without it fully sinking in as mingled joy and relief stole his breath. “I got in!” he said again, louder, on the second read-through, his laugh almost hysterical in his elation as he turned to hug Ana, jostling her as he jumped up and down.

“I knew you would, habibi!” Ana was laughing too, hugging him tightly. Fareeha came running down the stairs at the noise.

“What’s going on?” she asked with wide eyes, turning through the archway and narrowly dodging Jesse’s backpack where it was abandoned on the floor as she watched her mom and brother jumping around the kitchen. 

“I got into UNM!” Jesse exclaimed, and Fareeha flung herself into both of them to complete the group hug.

\-------

> **From Hanzo:** so Genji’s birthday is coming up

> **To Hanzo:** yeah? what are you doing for him?

> **From Hanzo:** revenge  
> 

> **From Hanzo:** wll that’s on him. for me  
> 

> **From Hanzo:** father is buying him a car so i’ll probably get him a stereo for it

> **To Hanzo:** lol revenge? what for?  
> 

> **From Hanzo:** it’s a lot to type out, i’ll call you

Jesse was laughing as he picked up the phone when it rang.

“Hey darlin’. So what’s got you swearin’ vengeance on your baby brother?”

Hanzo snorted. “When you texted me on my birthday, I had asked him if he was the one who told you, because it seemed like something he would do, and he looked over my shoulder at the text. When I wouldn’t open the link right away, he decided to be a little brat and tell everyone we met that it was my birthday.”

Jesse chuckled again at how indignant Hanzo sounded. “C’mon now darlin’, that doesn’t sound that bad.”

“When I say ‘everyone,’ I mean ‘everyone.’ People we passed leaving the gym, and in the parking lot, and drivers stopped next to us at a red light. I thought it would stop when he left for school, but after I talked to you, I started getting text messages from people at my high school that I didn’t even know because he had given them my number and harassed them into messaging me. Then at dinner, he left to go to the bathroom and must have told our waitress. You can imagine how that went.”

Despite cringing at how much he knew Hanzo hated that kind of thing, Jesse still couldn’t help finding it funny. “I get ya, vengeance should be yours. What’re you gonna do to ‘im? Seems like retaliatin’ with the same thing would just make ‘im laugh.”

Hanzo audibly deflated. “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

Jesse hummed, leaning far back in his chair and tapping his fingers against the arm. “He sounds pretty shameless, so embarassin’ him won’t do much.” An idea started to form in the back of his mind, and he grinned widely. “But you c’n always put that lesson from your pa t’good use.”

“Hmmm?”

“Okay, so remember that line your pa fed you about learning a lesson from the whole visit thing back before Thanksgiving? Where ya delay a meetin’ or whatever to make th’other person all frazzled wonderin’ what’s up?”

“Yeah?” Hanzo drew the word out as though not entirely sure where Jesse was going with this train of thought.

“Use that. Drop little hints that you’re gonna get him back. Be subtle, like you’ve got somethin’ planned. Maybe somethin’ big, I dunno, whatever will get ‘im wonderin’. I’ll bet you c’n be real diabolical if y’want to and he knows that, so he’ll be frettin’ about what you’re gonna do to ‘im. Since he knows ya won’t hurt ‘im, it won’t be too bad a stress, but it’ll be enough t’remind ‘im next time he wants to be a brat.”

Silence stretched on the other side of the line as Jesse waited for Hanzo’s judgement.

“You’re a genius,” Hanzo said finally, a note of wonder in his voice, and Jesse laughed. “That’s perfect, I love it. All I really have to do is mention I have something planned and remind him of what he did, and he’ll do the rest.” He started laughing too, a low giggle that Jesse had never heard before and which made him squirm with feelings that were anything but platonic. Hanzo really was diabolical, whether or not he knew it.

\-------

It was the next day, and Genji had been chattering non-stop over the phone about his current girlfriend and their plans for his birthday for at least fifteen minutes before finally winding down. He spent several of those minutes lamenting that their go-kart date would have to wait until the weekend, since his birthday was on a Wednesday. Hanzo smiled indulgently as he listened: it was always so cute how excited his brother got when he was dating someone new, even if it never lasted long.

“That sounds fun, even if you have to wait a few extra days,” Hanzo commented, picking his plate up from the coffee table and taking it to the kitchen to rinse the crumbs off. He had managed to finish all three pieces of avocado toast while his brother had talked without seeming to take a breath, and wasn’t surprised in the least. “Are you doing anything with Mother and Father?”

“Yeah, we’re going to dinner, and Dad is taking me to pick up my car. You should see it, it’s sweet, I’ll send pictures. I had to special order it ‘cause it had a million options and there’s like, no standard model just on the lot.” 

“I can’t wait to see it,” Hanzo said earnestly, almost sorry for what he was about to do. Almost. “And I’m glad that what you’re doing with them won’t interfere with my own plans.” He hoped the wicked grin on his face was audible.

“...what plans?” Genji’s voice had dropped from animated to suspicious.

“You’ll find out.” Hanzo set the clean dish in the strainer, helped himself to a can of seltzer, and meandered back into the living room. “You made my birthday so memorable that I wanted to return the favor.”

A beat of silence. “That’s not funny, Hanzo.”

“Oh, it’s not meant to be. Either way, I have to get to class, so I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“Oh, okay. Bye.”

“Bye, Genji.”

Hanzo hung up the phone, unable to keep from chuckling at how distracted his brother had sounded, and opened his laptop to try and finish the paper he was editing before Jesse got off work.

He wondered how long it would take for Genji to realize that Hanzo didn’t have any classes scheduled on Saturday.

\-------

For the next week and a half, Hanzo didn’t mention Genji’s birthday or what he had planned unless Genji brought it up first, and even then he didn’t say much. He had, in fact, coordinated with his father to have a nice stereo system installed in Genji’s birthday car before they picked it up, so that, at least, was taken care of. 

Jesse found Hanzo’s updates on Genji’s pestering to know his plans hilarious.

On the morning of, Hanzo texted Genji early to wish him happy birthday, and to tell him that he could have his present after he picked up his car. He still didn’t mention his ‘other plans.’

Genji managed to hold out until his lunch period before bringing it up.

> **From Gremlin:** wut abt ur plans?

> **To Gremlin:** you’ll see.

The next inquiry came after Genji was out of class.

> **From Gremlin:** still dnt c any plans

> **To Gremlin:** you will.

Two hours later, Hanzo’s phone blew up with over a dozen photos of a neon green Lexus sport coupe with a spoiler and a set of rims that had to have been custom. He wondered whether it had been intentional on Genji’s part that he was in class at the time, or his brother was just excited. It was probably the latter, but he couldn’t be sure.

> **From Gremlin:** thx 4 the sweet stereo!!!!!!!!!!!

> **To Gremlin:** glad you like it.

> **From Gremlin:** so whats ur plan????

> **To Gremlin:** Ill call you after class

> **From Gremlin:** k

When Hanzo called, Genji sounded like he wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or excited.

“Happy birthday,” Hanzo said with a grin, walking across the chilly quad with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Thanks, but what’s this plan of yours?” Genji asked, his tone bordering on a whine.

“Oh, it was the stereo.” Hanzo sounded nonchalant, but it was difficult to keep from laughing.

“Whaaaaaaat? What do you mean it was the stereo? You made it sound so sinister!”

Hanzo did laugh this time. “That was the point. I said I was going to repay you, and you’ve been thinking of my sinister plans all week, haven’t you?”

“You are pure evil,” Genji said, dumbfounded.

“I do have to give Jesse credit for the suggestion, and Father for the lesson, even if he didn’t know I was going to use it on you.”

“Your boyfriend is pure evil, too.”

“.... he’s not my boyfriend.”

\-------

Jesse probably shouldn’t ask. He probably didn’t honestly need to know. And yet … that comment from months ago -- Hanzo mentioning Genji teasing him about a crush -- had been niggling in the back of his head for ages and maybe there was someone in Berkeley that Hanzo liked and Jesse was getting all flustered for no reason and … fuck it. He was going to ask.

“So.” Jesse hoped to god that he sounded more casual than he felt. Curious for the sake of conversation or some shit like that. “Ya’ doin’ anythin’ for Valentine’s day?”

“What? No!” Hanzo sounded genuinely taken aback by the question and Jesse sighed inwardly in relief. “I mean, unless you count finishing the paper I have due on the 15th. Or buying chocolate. For me to eat. Why?” The surprise had turned to uncertainty. “Do … do you?”

Jesse couldn’t help laughing. “Naw. Might make a batch o’ them cookies Ree likes or somethin’. There’s a dance at school, but someone else is coverin’ it for th’paper, so I don’t have t’go.” He wasn’t sure whether he imagined the audible exhale on the other end of the line. 

“You don’t want to go?” Hanzo inquired after a moment. 

“Nuh uh.” Shaking his head even though Hanzo couldn’t see him, Jesse wandered around the backyard. It was still light enough to be out and about for a bit. “No one around here I’d wanna go with, and it’s not like I’d wanna show up jes’ t’socialize. I’d rather jes’ come home an talk to you. Nothin’ happenin’ at your school?”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t stay on campus except for class or to go to the library, really, so I don’t pay much attention to many of the student life events.” Hanzo sounded like he was going to say something else, then stopped himself. “You know, in Japan, Valentine’s day is for girls to give chocolates to boys they like … or just know. Boys return the favor on White Day in March. It was a busy time of year for Genji, even though he was only ten when we moved.”

“Aw, that’s kinda’ cute.” Jesse chuckled. “So when’s a guy supposed to give chocolate to the boy he likes?”

“I … have no idea. I mostly just dealt in obligation chocolate.”

“Wait, what now?”

Hanzo explained the intricacies of Valentine’s and White Day, which Jesse had some trouble wrapping his head around, but it almost made him wish he had asked well before February 12. Maybe then he would have had time to not only get up the courage to send some very-much-not-obligatory-chocolate, but to actually get it there in time, and see what Hanzo said about that. 

\-------

Jesse bounced on the balls of his feet as he watched the truck full of crates back up to the loading bay on Sunday morning.

“What’s got you all worked up?” asked Maggie, appearing behind him. He jumped a little: that girl was like a cat, always sneaking up.

“I’m jes’ excited for all the chicks and stuff.” Smiling crookedly, Jesse scuffed the sole of his boot on the loading dock floor. 

Maggie tilted her head at him as Fidel and Jackson emerged from the bay door. “Oh yeah, you weren’t here yet last year when they came in. It’s pretty okay. The rabbits are cute.”

Jesse’s eyes widened and his face lit up. “We’re gettin’ bunnies this year?!” Best day at work ever. “Ya didn’t used to!”

His three coworkers laughed, Fidel turning away to smother his snorting and Jackson’s ruddy face turning even redder than usual under his greying hair. Jesse was glad he knew all of them well enough to know that they weren’t strictly laughing at him.

“Oh my god, you are too fucking cute,” Maggie said between giggles. “Yeah, we’re getting rabbits, chicks, ducklings and guinea chicks this week. Geese and probably more chicks are next week. You gotta watch out for the guineas, though,” she added. “They’re little bastards.”

“All chicks are little bastards,” Fidel said over his shoulder, having gotten over his laughing fit and taking it upon himself to help direct the truck driver. “You gotta keep ‘em away from the ducks -- they’ll peck their eyes out.”

“That’s awful!” Jesse replied in horror as Jackson continued to chuckle behind him.

The truck finally finished getting into position and stopped, the driver getting out to open up the back with Fidel’s help.

“We’ll get the crates, son,” Jackson told Jesse. “You go on in and make sure the pens are ready, and you can transfer ‘em over when we bring ‘em in.”

“Sure thing.” Jesse saluted and headed inside, throwing a backward glance over his shoulder: He could already hear the peeping.

Giddy with excitement, Jesse practically skipped over to where he had spent part of the previous afternoon spreading wood shavings into huge metal tubs. Someone else had rolled the hutches out of the back and arranged them in a square, probably while he was talking to Sra. Hernandez that morning.

Now, he went about the business of filling food and water containers for each enclosure, leaning over the metal walls to place them a bit away from the heat lamps in the fowl pens and hooking bottles up to the hutch screens. He wouldn’t have minded helping with the crates, but the weight limits on lifting things with his prosthetic was still a little fuzzy, and he wouldn’t have wanted to risk dropping any of the animals.

By the time he was was finished, there were three crates of chicks sitting next to the biggest pen, two of ducks by the next largest, and one of (he assumed) guinea chicks at the last. Four smaller crates sat next to the hutches for the rabbits, the only quiet ones of the bunch.

Jesse opened the first crate of chicks with a gleeful grin, and was greeted by a chorus of enthusiastic peeping. They were so cute that he would have to take a picture to send Hanzo later.

He was part way through getting them moved into their pen when Jackson walked over to set a stack of small signs on top of one of the hutches. “Go ahead and get these up when you’re done, and make sure you get some T&A in the hutches. There’s an open bale out back.”

“Yessir,” Jesse said as Jackson walked off, wincing a little as one of the chicks managed to get a peck in at the same spot on his wrist bone that at least four others had taken shots at. They really were little bastards, even if they were cute: maybe he should have gotten a glove.

Finished with the chicks, Jesse plugged in the heat lamp and started to turn to get the ducks situated, but paused -- the light hadn’t turned on. He checked the socket, but it was fine.

“Awww, c’mon …” Slightly annoyed, Jesse stepped over the wall into the enclosure, being careful to gently toe aside the one chick that refused to get out of the way, and moving the water dispensers to the edge before laying on his back so that he could look up at the light. Of course the chicken pen would have one of the big bar-style lamps rather than the smaller, bell-shaped ones that were hanging above the other two: those could just be flipped over.

As he fussed with the long bulb, which seemed to have been jostled out of position and didn’t want to be locked back into place, Jesse could feel the chicks hopping onto him, pecking at the buttons of his flannel. Their little feet all over his chest and stomach probably would have tickled had he not been wearing layers.

“Hey, Jess!”

Jesse brought his arms down and turned his head to see Maggie, her phone pointed at him. She cackled.

“I look over and you’d disappeared, so I came over to see what’s up and you’re lying here covered in chickens. It was totally a Kodak moment.” 

“Huh?” Jesse wrinkled his nose: her and her weird old sayings. “The light’s not workin’. Can’t seem t’get the bulb t’seat right.”

“Are you pushing in the pin?” At Jesse’s confused look, Maggie continued. “The little black button thing on the left -- you gotta hold it down while you push the bulb in.”

Jesse tried, his mouth a tight line of frustration. “Guess it’s a two-handed operation,” he huffed after a moment with a vague wave of The Claw.

“Yeah, sorry, I should’ve thought about that.” Maggie was already leaning over the wall. “You get the pin, and I’ll wiggle the bulb, since you’re already down there in the sawdust and I don’t wanna switch places.”

“Aw, it’s not bad.” The bulb clicked into place and Jesse squinted at the sudden glare directly in his face.

“Until they shit on you.” Maggie helped to shoo some of the chicks out of the way so that Jesse could roll on his side and get up.

“What are you, a goddamn gopher?” Fidel yelled at Jesse from the aisle as his head popped up over the enclosure wall. Maggie laughed while he stepped out and put his hat back on.

“Want help?” she asked.

“If you could get th’signs, that’d be great. I c’n never get ‘em straight.”

With Maggie there to help him (and egg him on), Jesse was slightly more inclined to goof off a little, and she was more than happy to provide photographic evidence (which she promised to send to him). Putting the ducks away made Jesse want to take one home -- they looked so happy compared to the grumpy little chicks -- and a few of them ended up nesting comfortably in his hat for a short while.

The guineas were like smaller, angrier chickens. Both Jesse and Maggie put gloves on, just in case.

Jesse was in no particular hurry to finish getting the rabbits into the hutches once Maggie had moved off to help a customer, stopping to pet each one before putting it away. One of them, a grey rabbit slightly smaller than the others, kept running up to the hutch door for more attention, and Jesse obligingly transferred it to his shirt pocket, where it seemed content. It stayed there while he finished moving the others, while he put hay in the hutches and made the rounds of the other pens to see that all the animals were getting on alright, and while he carried the now-empty crates to the back.

He had moved on to other things, and was hanging the new shipment of leashes on the sales floor when Jackson did a double-take as he walked by.

“Is that a rabbit in your pocket?”

“Well, yeah,” Jesse answered with a grin that was only slightly sheepish, reaching up to stroke the bunny’s silky head. “We’re advertisin’. His name is Eastwood.”

Jackson just snorted, but as he walked away, Jesse could hear him chuckling under his breath.

\-------

“So then Madison and Rachel insisted I come, even though I don’t have a fake ID anymore and theirs _look_ totally fake. I was all ‘yeah, okay, but it better not suck like last time …’”

Hanzo listened, occasionally rolling his eyes or chuckling indulgently as Genji recounted last night’s misadventures trying to get into some dance club, failing, and eventually settling on a movie and midnight snacks at one of those greasy 24-hour diners their parents never wanted to eat at. He had just finished the story with the scolding he had gotten after the security cameras caught him sneaking in at three in the morning when Hanzo’s phone vibrated to tell him that he had a message. It vibrated three more times in quick succession.

“Just a minute,” he said before Genji could start on another story. “I just got four texts in a row.”

“Bet they’re from your boyfriend,” Genji teased as Hanzo pulled the phone away from his ear to look. Hanzo didn’t bother to correct him for the millionth time.

> **From Jesse:** the spring stock came in today!

Three photos followed. The first was of Jesse lying on his back with his hair splayed out over a bed of wood shavings, covered in at least two dozen chicks. His eyes were wide, face open and curious. In the second, he was holding his hat upside down with a grin, full of ducklings, while the third was a selfie with a baby bunny in the pocket of his flannel shirt. The smile he was giving it was soft as he stroked its head with a finger.

The sound Hanzo made was inhuman.

> **To Jesse:** that is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

He cleared his throat and brought the phone back up to his ear, preparing for whatever questions Genji was going to barrage him with.

“What was that? You _squealed_. I’ve never heard you squeal in my _life_.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“I, uh, Jesse sent some pictures from work. They were really cute.” Hanzo was blushing so hard that he was sure his brother could hear it. 

Genji laughed, but it came out as more of a snort. “Okay, if they’re so cute you’re gonna squeal in my ear like that, you gotta share.”

“No,” Hanzo answered immediately. He wanted to enjoy Jesse’s photos in peace when he was off the phone, not get teased about them for the next week.

“Hanzooooooooooooooooo,” Genji whined. “C’mon, you said they were at work, so I know they’re not nudes.. Shaaaaaaaaaaaaare!”

So this was how it was going to be. 

“Fine.” Genji probably wasn’t going to leave him alone until he had gotten his way, and if he was going to share pictures of Jesse with his brother, these were probably the best. He cast the notion of nudes directly out of his mind. Mostly out of his mind. Or something like that. “Just give me a minute.”

Hanzo forwarded the three photos to Genji’s number and waited while he looked them over.

“Okay, you’re right, they are pretty cute,” Genji admitted when he had returned to the call. “I mean, I wouldn’t call them squeal-worthy, but I don’t have the hots for the cowboy.”

Hanzo groaned. “Can we not?”

“You know he likes you back, right?”

Sitting straight up, Hanzo was suddenly paying 110% attention. “What makes you say that?”

Genji made a noise that could only be accompanied by a shrug. “Selfies. If he didn’t ‘like you’ like you, he would have just sent pictures of the ducks and stuff. But he didn’t: he made sure he was in them all. That was a super obvious ‘hey look at me I’m cute and fun and I want you to think about me while you enjoy this thing I sent you.’”

“Are you sure?” Genji’s logic seemed almost sound, but Hanzo didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“Well, yeah.” His brother heaved a melodramatic sigh. “You guys are on the phone more than me and you are and I bet you text for the rest of the day. He likes you. I bet he’s said all kinds of things to hint that he likes you and you were too dense to get it.”

Hanzo chewed his lip, concentrating. “Well, he did ask if I had plans for Valentine’s day last week .”

“Yeah? What’d you say?”

“That I didn’t. It made me nervous, so I asked him about his plans, but he was just doing something for his sister and avoiding a school dance.”

“Okaaaaaaaaaay, did he say anything else about that?” Genji prompted.

“That there wasn’t anyone around there he’d want to go with and he’d rather just stay home to talk to me?”

“... you are an idiot,” Genji deadpanned, sounding just this side of disgusted. “You probably didn’t ask him if there was _anyone_ he’d want to go with, did you?”

“Noooooo …?”

He snorted. “Missed opportunity. He was practically begging you to ask. So now you need to think of something good to send to him to show him you’re interested because you _didn’t_ ask. Something _really_ good, not your usual boring selfies.”

Hanzo just didn’t understand how Genji could be so casual and confident about this: his stomach was already roiling trying to imagine what he could possibly mean by ‘really good.’ Then again, it wasn’t Genji’s crush. “Why is this so complicated?” It definitely wasn’t a whine.

“Why are you _making_ this so complicated?” Genji huffed. “If you’re not going to straight up tell him you like him, then you gotta drop enough hints that maybe he’ll stop being chicken first and straight up tell you he likes _you_. We’ll get some good pictures of you when I come down on break next week.”

“I can’t believe I’m even considering letting you talk me into this,” Hanzo said with a sigh. He needed to change the topic quickly before Genji got too attached to the idea. “So what would you like to do while you’re here? I’m going to be in class part of the time, but we can go out or something when I’m not.”

“Beach,” Genji answered immediately. Hanzo was relieved the diversion worked. “Are there any good clubs by you?”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t go to clubs. You _know_ that. We can definitely go to the beach, though. And that ice cream place you liked when you were here in August.”

“Sweet. And we’ll take some pictures at the beach.”

Hanzo heaved a long-suffering sigh. The only thing left to do was just let it happen. Hopefully it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *It took a ridiculous amount of time to find a copy of an actual acceptance letter to UNM.  
> *When I was first researching for this chapter, I had in mind a Lexus LFA for Genji, because spending half a million dollars on a sport car for a 16 year old seemed like something they would do. It's a discontinued model though, so it's probably a LC 500 with a custom paint job and aftermarket extras.  
> *White Day can get hella expensive for a guy who gets a lot of obligation chocolate; men are expected to spend about 3 times the value of each gift they received on V-Day when they reciprocate.  
> *We lived out in the country when I was a kid, and I used to love going to the feed store in the spring because there were chicks etc.  
> *Guinea fowl are totally bastards, chicks or otherwise  
> *T&A is a mix of Timothy hay and alfalfa. We fed it to our rabbits and my mother feeds it to her alpacas; the Timothy hay is apparently more nutritious, but the animals tend to like the taste of alfalfa more.  
> *Raise your hand if you're old enough to remember the Kodak Moment commercials!


	9. Those Meddling Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More brotherly plotting ensues, and a little sister snoops.

The beach was cooler than Genji had hoped but still warmer than Hanzo had expected in February, and blessedly free of throngs of tourists. A breeze blew in from over the ocean, carrying the salty tang of the sea air to Hanzo’s nostrils. He was sure he could feel the spray even above the dunes where they had parked.

Genji shed his shirt, flinging it off to land on the hood of the car as soon as he was out the passenger door. He darted toward the water, yelling at Hanzo to follow. Rolling his eyes but smiling fondly, Hanzo yelled back.

“You better come help me with this stuff if you want to eat today!”

His words were swallowed by the wind and drowned beneath the dull roar of the waves, and he shook his head as he picked up Genji’s shirt, grabbing their bag, cooler, and blanket out of the trunk.

“Are you seriously going into the water right now?” Hanzo shouted to Genji with the same result as he trekked through the soft, shifting sand. “It can’t be more than fifteen degrees!” He set their things down in a clear spot, keeping an eye on his brother while he laid out the blanket. By the time the little gremlin had run headlong into the water, gotten himself soaked, found it freezing, and run back again, Hanzo already had a large towel and a thermos of hot tea waiting for him.

“I knew that was going to happen.”

“It’s c-c-cold! Why’s it cold?!” Genji’s teeth chattered, and Hanzo draped a towel over his head, ruffling his damp hair.

“It’s winter. Just because we’re in California doesn’t mean it’s warm year-round.”

Genji hmphed and sullenly drank his tea, Hanzo borrowing the thermos to pour some for himself as well. They both sat watching the ocean for awhile, letting the pounding of the waves lull them. Sea gulls wheeled overhead, occasionally landing to bicker noisily over some tidbit, and a couple walked by, strolling hand-in-hand down along the tide line. Hanzo sighed wistfully, watching them until they had turned around a bend. They looked happy.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo turned back toward his brother: Genji had his phone out, and was looking gleeful as he fussed with something on the screen.

“That was a good one. What kind of filter should we put on it?”

“What.” Hanzo looked thoroughly unimpressed. “I had hoped you would drop the beach photos, considering the temperature.”

Genji flopped back on the blanket. “Well, I had planned some shirtless ones to show off your buffness and your ink. Not that we can’t, just you’ll be cold. Maybe wet and sandy, with your hair down.”

“No.”

\-------

In the end, Hanzo wanted Genji to stop bothering him more than he wanted to be warm. He had to admit that his brother had an eye for photography, but the idea of sending any of the pictures they had taken to Jesse had his stomach in knots.

“If I catch pneumonia and die, I am blaming you,” he groused, finally drying off after the third attempt to get all of the sand out of his long hair at one of the beachside showers. His scalp still felt gritty and a film of salt clung to his skin, but it would be good enough to not muss the car on the way home. He could get a real shower then. A warm one.

“I got wet too,” Genji answered, still wrapped in a towel from head to calf. “So if we die, we die together.”

Genji chattered the whole way home, stopping long enough when they arrived for the two of them to split off to separate bathrooms for hot showers. Hanzo had to admit it was nice having his little brother there: as much as talking to Jesse helped to stave off the ache of loneliness in the evenings, there were still times that the quiet was deafening. He also missed Genji, more than anything else, even if he’d never admit it. It was going to be hard sending him home in a week.

They spent the rest of the afternoon leisurely, each doing their own thing in the other’s presence: Hanzo had his laptop on the coffee table so he could get some homework done, while Genji had his phone out and was surfing his various social media haunts.

“That one pic of you has over 300 likes on Instagram,” Genji commented as Hanzo was closing his laptop to go make dinner.

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Why is it even _on_ Instagram?” 

Genji shrugged as he followed his brother to the kitchen and sat at the bar to watch. “Field test. You should totally send this one to Jesse.” He regarded his phone for a moment. “Then again, I tagged it with ‘tattoo’ and ‘tattooed,’ and there are always people in those tags. Does Jesse like tattoos?”

“I think so. He seemed interested when I mentioned it,” Hanzo answered, pulling a bag of salad greens out of the refrigerator and tossing it onto the counter before perusing the other vegetables for what he wanted to use. The memory of how Jesse’s voice had suddenly changed during that conversation had his stomach in a not-unpleasant knot.

“That’s good. I can’t wait to get a tattoo when I turn eighteen,” Genji continued. “Do you think Dad will fly his tattoo guy in from Japan like he did for you?”

Hanzo set a bell pepper on his board and started cutting it into strips. “I don’t know. Probably? I’m not sure whether that was his idea or Mother’s -- you know how she likes to make sure we get as much traditional culture as possible.”

“Hmmm. I wonder what I should get.” Genji watched Hanzo in quiet with his cheek resting in his hand while he finished with the bell pepper and started on a carrot. “Why does Dad have a tattoo guy, anyway?”

Hanzo stopped what he was doing. That was an excellent question.

Genji wasn’t done, though. “I mean, does Dad have tattoos? I don’t remember seeing any.”

Leaning against the counter, Hanzo thought about it. _Did_ their father have tattoos? He couldn’t remember seeing any, either. The silence stretched, both their faces screwed up in puzzled concentration.

“I can’t recall ever having seen Father without long sleeves,” Hanzo said eventually, slowly turning back to his vegetables. 

“You’re right!” Realization dawned slowly on Genji’s face, and he tapped his fingers on the counter, the rhythm annoyingly out of sync with the sound of Hanzo’s knife on the cutting board. “Weird. What if he’s yakuza?” he joked.

Hanzo snorted and opened the refrigerator again. “Then you might want to rethink wanting Father’s tattoo artist to do yours,” he said, glancing at his own inked shoulder and then back to the contents of his fridge. His eyes fell on the eggs. “Damn it, I meant to put those in first.”

Genji let out a laugh as Hanzo got out a pot and set some eggs to boil, one rolling off of the counter onto the floor in the process. “You need to get a boyfriend that cooks,” he commented. “‘Cause you suck in the kitchen.”

“Jesse cooks,” Hanzo answered automatically, catching himself just as Genji started cackling. His ears burned red -- he didn’t need this right now, he had an egg to clean up. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You so did!” Genji wheezed, catching his breath and leaning over the bar to see his brother wiping yolk off of the tile. “Anyway, about those pictures …”

\-------

Jesse sat cross-legged on the couch after dinner with his Spanish Culture book in his lap, Fareeha rooted next to him watching a superhero cartoon that he was paying approximately zero attention to. He was paying only slightly more attention to her running commentary.

Normally at this time of day, Jesse would be upstairs talking to Hanzo if he didn’t have too much homework. Now, though, he figured it was best to let his friend spend time with his visiting brother while he spent some time with his own family.

Jesse was partway through a section on Mexican idioms when his phone buzzed with a text message. He absently reached for it, setting it on his book before tapping the message open and taking a quick drink of water while he read it.

> **From Hanzo:** went to the beach with my brother today

A picture followed: Hanzo sitting in the sand, grinning playfully at the camera with his wet hair trailing around his bare shoulders. _Damn._ Jesse choked on his water in surprise, coughing and sputtering as he tried not to spit any of it on his textbook. 

“Jesse, are you alright?” Ana had looked up, concerned, from her knitting in the recliner on the other side of the room. “You’re turning red.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jesse croaked, getting his coughing under control. Ana regarded him for a moment longer, and he cleared his throat. He had managed to swallow his gum in the process.

Jesse was suddenly very grateful for the large textbook in his lap: Hanzo was going to be the death of him.

He didn’t notice Fareeha leaning over to see what was on his phone until it was too late.

“ _Mooooooooooooooooooom,_ ” she bawled, as only younger siblings can. “Jesse’s getting shirtless pictures!”

Ana looked up again with a raised brow, her lips pursed. Jesse couldn’t tell which of them it was directed at.

“Jesse, are you getting shirtless pictures?” she asked mildly.

Jesse was certain he could have cooked an egg on his own face right then. “Uh … Hanzo was at the beach with his brother today,” he said lamely.

“Fareeha, are you snooping?” Ana directed her gaze at her daughter, somewhat less mildly.

“Maybe a little?” Fareeha squeaked. 

Rolling her eyes, Ana went back to knitting. “Fareeha, stop being nosy. Jesse, you’re almost eighteen. If you two start exchanging nudes, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Ewwwww, Mom!” Fareeha cried, horrified, then wrinkled her nose at Jesse in disgust as he choked on whatever he had been about to say next. “Nudes, gross.”

“I ain’t been sendin’ nudes,” Jesse shot back once he had recovered, having forgotten entirely what he had been about to say before Ana’s comment about nudes. He hadn’t thought his face could get any redder before, but he had been wrong. Fareeha stuck her tongue out at him.

“Be nice, you two,” Ana said without looking up, not sounding the least bit concerned.

Jesse huffed and picked up his phone to reply to his texts, ignoring his sister.

> **To Hanzo:** your gorgeous darlin. love the ink

The seconds crawled by as Jesse waited for a response, agonizing over whether that was the best thing to say.

> **From Hanzo:** flatterer (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

Letting out a long breath of relief, Jesse sunk backward into the couch, trying not to grin too stupidly as he saved the picture and decided what to say next.

> **To Hanzo:** it’s not flattery if its true  
> 

****

> **To Hanzo:** i’ll let you get back to visiting with your brother though  
> 

****

> **To Hanzo:** i know you miss him

> **From Hanzo:** thanks  
> 

****

> **From Hanzo:** have a good night

> **To Hanzo:** you too darlin

Absorbed in his conversation, Jesse missed Ana’s knowing smile as she slyly watched him without raising her head.

\-------

Hanzo sat on the couch with his face in his hands, torn between not wanting and desperately needing to know what, exactly, Genji was doing with his phone.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” he moaned, voice muffled by his palms. 

“I’m very persuasive and it’s for your own good. Shh, it’ll be over soon.” By ‘very persuasive,’ Genji meant ‘threatened to text Jesse himself and rat Hanzo out.’

Lifting his head up just enough to glare at his brother, Hanzo found his phone being thrust in his face. “No, I don’t want to see.” He pushed it away. “You didn’t say anything too weird, did you?”

“Nah, just that you went to the beach with your favorite brother, and then sent the picture.”

_Oh god. He did it. He really did it._ Hanzo’s heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage as he slumped back on the couch, waiting for a response. How long had it been? He had lost track. Jesse should have responded by now. Why hadn’t he responded? Was he upset? Disgusted? Was he going to respond? Why had Hanzo let Genji message him?

Genji looked nonplussed as he regarded the screen, but huffed in exasperation as he looked up to see Hanzo slowly spiralling into panic mode. “Jeez, Hanzo, it’s okay! You’re sending him a picture, not asking him to marry you. Do you need tea? I’m gonna make tea.”

Hanzo whimpered as his brother stepped into the kitchen, taking his phone with him. He was being stupid. Genji was right: it was just a picture.

“Hey, he responded.” Hanzo sat up stock straight when Genji held his phone up. “He says: ‘you’re gorgeous, darling. Love the ink.’”

“It’s darlin’,” he corrected automatically, weak with relief: he didn’t know what terrible things he had been expecting to happen, but they hadn’t come to pass and that was good enough for him. “There’s a difference. What are you typing?” 

Genji laughed, and Hanzo couldn’t find it in himself to be rankled by it. “Just that he was a flatterer. With a little blushy face.” The phone buzzed. “And apparently, it’s not flattery if it’s true. Aww, look at cowbae flirting.”

“Ugh, you are the worst.”

“I think you mean the best.” Genji tossed Hanzo’s phone at him over the bar, and he scrambled to catch it before it fell and cracked the screen. “Nice to know you missed me. You take over.”

Still sitting on the floor where he had landed, Hanzo read the string of texts for himself. 

> **From Jesse:** your gorgeous darlin. love the ink

> **To Jesse:** flatterer (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

> **From Jesse:** it’s not flattery if its true  
> 

> **From Jesse:** i’ll let you get back to visiting with your brother though  
> 

> **From Jesse:** i know you miss him

> **To Jesse:** thanks  
> 

> **To Jesse:** have a good night

> **From Jesse:** you too darlin

Once he had typed in his goodnight and gotten his final response, Hanzo sat re-reading the conversation several times over, a goofy, absent smile plastered on his face. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Genji sat down beside him, placing a steaming cup of tea on the floor next to his knee.

“I think he really likes you,” he commented, taking a sip from his own cup as leaned over to read the rest of the brief conversation. “You should make a move.”

“He lives two states away, Genji,” Hanzo answered with a pained sigh. “It’s not like I can just ask him to dinner on Friday night.”

“No, but spring break is coming up. You can ask him to visit.”

Hanzo turned his head sharply to look at his brother. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“What if he doesn’t want to come?” he asked hesitantly.

Genji shrugged. “Then he’ll be missing out. But he’ll want to. Even if he can’t, he’ll want to.”

“Thanks, Genji,” Hanzo said softly, leaning his head on his brother’s shoulder as he finally picked up his tea. He felt as though he were the younger one just now.

“You’re welcome.” Genji’s voice was just as soft as he rested his head atop Hanzo’s and slung an arm around his shoulders. “It’s all good. You’ll see.”

\-------

It was Thursday before Hanzo had steeled himself to offer the invite, Genji’s ironclad logic that “the faster you get this done, the more time you’ll have to plan” finally winning out over Hanzo’s anxiety.

The phone only rang once before Jesse picked it up.

“Hey there darlin’, didn’t think I’d hear your voice until you were done visitin’ with Genji. Not that I’m complainin’.”

“I called to ask you something, actually.” Hanzo hoped that his voice wasn’t wavering too much; Genji gave him a thumbs up, so it probably wasn’t.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Jesse’s voice was bright with curiosity.

“I, uh … spring break is coming up,” Hanzo began. “And-” he had to stop to take a deep breath “- and I’d like it if you were able to come visit. Me. Here. In California.” Genji was waving at him to stop before he rambled too long, and Hanzo squinted at him, holding his breath.

Jesse inhaled sharply. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that too.” He hesitated. “Don’t know if I can swing it and I need to check with Ana before I say I’m comin, but yeah. I really, _really_ wanna meet you.”

The soft timbre of Jesse’s voice as he answered ignited something warm in Hanzo’s belly. “I’ll pay for your tickets to get here.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t want you to’have t’do that, Hanners.”

“I’d want to, if it meant I got to see you.” Hanzo tried to ignore Genji as he mouthed ‘Hanners?’ with wide eyes and a deviously gleeful grin.

“Either way, I’ll check with Ana an’ see about gettin’ the time off work. Can I let you know by this weekend?”

“Yeah, that would be good. I hope you can make it.”

“Me too, darlin’.” That warm spot flared at how much Jesse sounded like he really meant it. 

They talked for a few more minutes about vacation dates -- it was unfortunate that their breaks didn’t coincide, but if Hanzo could have Genji over while he had classes, he figured he could have Jesse over as well -- before they hung up. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Genji asked once Hanzo had put the phone down. He giggled. “Hanners.”

“Shut up!” Hanzo swung a throw pillow at his brother. Genji dodged and retaliated, and the battle was on.

\-------

Jesse thundered down the stairs, almost slipping in his socks on the polished wood floor at the bottom. Where was Ana? First he passed through the living room, where she wasn’t, and then into the kitchen, where she also wasn’t, before opening the backdoor to check the garden. Not there either.

“You sounded like a herd of elephants,” Ana said somewhere behind him, and he whirled around to see her standing at the foot of the stairs. 

“Hey, I was lookin’ for ya. Had somethin’ ta ask.” Jesse walked far more sedately to where she was standing, but couldn’t help bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. 

“Oh?” Ana smiled indulgently, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and looking up at him expectantly.

“So, uh, Hanzo asked me t’come see him for spring break,” Jesse began, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “And I wanted ta see if that was alright.”

“Hmmmmm.” Tilting her head, Ana looked contemplative, but she didn’t immediately say no, so that was a part of a win. “How do you plan on getting there?”

Jesse deflated slightly. “I haven’t looked at that yet, he just invited me a couple minutes ago and I wanted t’check with you first. If it was okay. Didn’ wanna just start plannin’.” He put on his best pleading expression, the one he’d only used a few times in his life when it was _really_ important. “Please?”

“Well, thank you for asking first.” Ana regarded him evenly. “What about work that week?

“I’ll talk to Jackson. I never ask for time off, so he’ll be okay with it.”

Ana nodded. “Do you know how much this trip will cost?”

Jesse bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uhhh … not really, no. But I got money in savings, so I c’n take care of it,” he added quickly. “I’m not askin’ for you to pay for anything or anythin’.”

“That was not my worry,” Ana said, her considering face on. Eventually, she smiled and uncrossed her arms to reach up and ruffle his hair -- it was harder now than it was when he was twelve. “I need your itinerary for whatever tickets you end up getting, and for you to check in with me every day that you’re there. And you need to promise that if you need something while you are there, you will _ask me_.””

“Thank you Ana! I promise!” Jesse’s face broke into a wide smile as he threw his arms around her, positively buoyant. That had seemed far too easy, but Ana probably had her own reasons and he would have to examine that train of thought later.

“You’re welcome, habibi,” Ana answered, returning the hug. “Have fun, be safe, and let me know if you need any help planning.”

When Ana let go, Jesse was was practically floating. “Thanks, I will.” His face felt as though it ought to hurt, he was smiling so hard. He’d have to ask Jackson for the time off, but that wouldn’t be a problem, and he’d have to figure out how he was getting there, but he had options. 

Jesse felt giddy, simultaneously lighter than air and buzzing with nervous anticipation, not even remembering returning to his room. He was going to see Hanzo! Really, finally meet him! _In person!_

He was nearly laughing, and couldn’t help screaming into his pillow the way he used to when he got particularly good comments on his fiction. It all came crashing down, though, with the sudden realization that he was going to see Hanzo. In person. Hanzo, who did not know about his arm.

Suddenly frozen, face down in the pillow, Jesse took short, panicked breaths as he tried to sort out what he should do. Tell Hanzo, obviously -- it wouldn’t be fair for Jesse to surprise him like that when he reached California. But how? ‘Thought I ought to mention that I’m down an arm. Sorry I never said anything before. I didn’t want you to know.’ That just wouldn’t fly.

Jesse needed help.

\--------

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** Gabe, can I ask for some advice?

> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Sure thing. what’s up?

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** So there’s this guy I met online and I really really like him. And Ana said I could go visit for spring break. But I’m scared because I haven’t told him about my arm yet  
> 
> 
> **To Gabriel Reyes:** like, actively hid it from him sort of haven’t told  
> 
> 
> **To Gabriel Reyes:** and we’ve been talking for almost a year

> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Well then tell him

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** just like that?

> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Just like that  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** If you really like the guy, you gotta get over it and just do it  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Either he’ll understand and it will work out or he won’t and you don’t waste your time

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** I’m just really nervous  
> 
> 
> **To Gabriel Reyes:** maybe I should have told him sooner

> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Look Jesse, that was a rough thing to have to go through and you don’t owe anyone an explanation  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** Especially if you will never actually see them face to face  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** But if you want to go meet this guy then he needs to know beforehand  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** He doesn’t need to be surprised, and you don’t need to have wasted the trip if he reacts badly  
> 
> 
> **From Gabriel Reyes:** That’s how you get hurt

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** You’re right.  
> 
> 
> **To Gabriel Reyes:** Still scary though

> **From Gabriel Reyes:** You’re a strong kid, you can handle it

> **To Gabriel Reyes:** Thanks Gabe

\-------

Jesse’s knee bounced as the phone rang, waiting for Hanzo to answer. When he did pick up, Jesse somehow managed to fumble the phones so that he nearly dropped it.

“Hey! Uh … hey, Han,” he said breathlessly into his earpiece as he tried to pull himself together, his voice wavering slightly.

“Jesse, are you alright?” Hanzo asked with a note of concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No! I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m alright, no nothin’s wrong.” Jesse put his face in his hand, curling up on his bed to make himself small with the phone next to him. Hanzo couldn’t see him, but it felt more secure. “Sorry, I’m just a lil’ nervous.”

“What about?”

“Well, that’s the thing, darlin’...” Uncurling himself just enough to get a stick of gum from the nightstand in order to brace himself for what was coming, Jesse cleared his throat. It felt hot in the room, despite the early spring temperatures. “I got somethin’ to tell ya’.”

“Okay,” Hanzo said, drawing the word out after a long pause. “What is it?”

“It’s about my goin’ out there to see ya’ …” Jesse faltered, the words refusing to move past his lips. There was an audible intake of breath from Hanzo as Jesse sat shaking, his face once more buried in his hand. He was going to be sick.

“Jesse, it’s … it’s okay,” Hanzo prompted gently, sounding worried. “What do you need to tell me?”

Jesse took a deep breath, swallowing down the nausea as best he could. Hanzo was right: it was okay, and he could do this. Hanzo wouldn’t be repulsed or angry or anything; he had even mentioned his friend having a bionic arm. Jesse tried to ignore the little voice that told him otherwise.

“I … I been keepin’ something from ya. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to spring it on ya’ when I got there.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be alright.” Hanzo sounded so sure beneath the shake that always snuck into his voice when something really worried him. The fact that the worry was for him made Jesse feel a little braver: maybe it _would_ be alright.

“I’m … I’ve … I got this prosthetic arm. ‘Bove the elbow. It prolly shoulda’ come up b’fore, but I didn’ want you to know,” he admitted quietly. “Sorry.” 

There was another audible inhale, a long pause, then a more audible exhale.

“Jesse … no … don’t be sorry.” Hanzo sounded almost pained. “I probably wouldn’t have said anything either, in your place.”

Nearly melting into his mattress with relief, Jesse breathed a little easier. Hanzo was still talking to him: that was good.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked when Jesse didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m okay,” he answered. “Jes’ … jes’ happy you ain’t mad or nothin’.”

“I wouldn’t be mad at you for that.” Hanzo’s voice was quiet.

The both of them fell silent after that, just listening to each other’s breaths for a few moments. It was comforting.

“So … that was the accident?” Hanzo asked finally. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” he added hastily. “You don’t have to tell me if you would rather not.”

“Naw, I don’t mind,” Jesse answered. Curiosity was good: that he could deal with. “I don’t talk about it much, but I think I can with you.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“Sophomore year, me and a couple of guys on the team went to go get food after practice. Chad’s shitty car didn’t have A/C, so I had my arm hangin’ out the window in the back seat when some guy in a big truck blew the stop light and rammed right into the side of us. Arm was crushed and had me pinned, so they had to cut it off right then and there jes’ to get me out o’ the car ‘fore I bled to death. I only remember bits of it, other than it hurtin’ like hell.” What he didn’t say was that the bits he did remember, he remembered in lurid detail.

It was a little easier than Jesse expected, actually: the nausea had subsided, and the shaking. He uncurled slowly, realizing that he had never actually _told_ anyone about the accident before: not out loud, anyway. Everyone he knew in town had seen it on the news, read it in the paper, already knew. It had come up in some scholarship application essays about overcoming struggles, but writing it felt different, especially since it was a faceless scholarship committee he would never meet that would be reading it. After the accident, his doctor suggested he see a therapist but he refused, afraid that they would delve too deep and find all the other little buried traumas he liked to leave safely in the past.

“Oh my God,” Hanzo breathed. “That must have been -- I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah.” Jesse fell back onto his pillow, limp from exhaustion. “It was rough. I was in and out of surgery the first week -- not just for my arm, I was pretty fucked up all over -- and then stayed in the hospital for a couple more ‘fore they sent me home. Didn’t wanna go back to school for a bit, but did it pretty much as soon as I was allowed anyway -- didn’t want to miss too much and have to repeat.” 

“How was it when you went back?” The question came gently -- maybe Hanzo understood even from far away that finally talking about it was helping.

“Tiring. The pity faces and the kids tryin’ to get a peek or always lookin’ away was the worst. An’ I didn’t write for months.”

“Hmmm. I had wondered what that big gap between ‘Gunpowder’ and ‘Shot in the Dark’ was.” 

Jesse smiled. ‘Shot in the Dark’ would probably forever be his favorite thing he’s written -- not because of anything he wrote, but because of who chose to read. “Glad I got my ass back in gear and started writin’ again, though. Wouldn’t have met you, otherwise.”

“I’m glad, too.”

\-------

As soon he answered the phone, Hanzo could tell that something was wrong.

“Jesse, are you alright?” Hanzo’s heart plummeted into his stomach, and Genji tilted his head at his tone of voice, his mouth a tight line. “Is something wrong?”

“No! I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m alright, no nothin’s wrong. Sorry, I’m just a lil’ nervous.”

“What about?” Hanzo was almost afraid to ask.

“Well, that’s the thing, darlin’...I got somethin’ to tell ya’.” 

“Okay,” Hanzo said, drawing the word out after a long pause. If worry was a tangible thing, it would be strangling him right now. As it was, the glance he cast at Genji was bordering on despair, and he received an apologetic smile in response. “What is it?”

“It’s about my goin’ out there to see ya’ …” The words were like a splash of cold water. Jesse wasn’t coming, was he?

“Jesse, it’s … it’s okay,” Hanzo prompted gently, not wanting to pressure him. If that was the case, they’d have to figure something else out. “What do you need to tell me?”

“I … I been keepin’ something from ya. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to spring it on ya’ when I got there.” 

Okay, so he was coming? That was good, but now Hanzo’s mind was racing with all sorts of other things that Jesse might have been keeping secret that could be upsetting him so much to have to share. 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be alright.” He wanted to believe that, but also wanted to reassure Jesse whether it was true or not.

“I’m … I’ve … I got this prosthetic arm. ‘Bove the elbow,” Jesse said quietly, as though he were apologizing. That was not any of the things Hanzo had imagined. “It prolly shoulda’ come up b’fore, but I didn’ want you to know. Sorry.” 

Hanzo took a deep breath, steeling himself. Yeah, it was a shock, but this conversation was not about him. He exhaled slowly, making a ‘don’t say anything’ face at Genji.

“Jesse … no … don’t be sorry. I probably wouldn’t have said anything either in your place.”

Hanzo realized as he said it that it was true: he was nervous enough about sending a nice picture, let alone something like this. Jesse was braver than he was by far.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked when Jesse didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m okay,” he answered. “Jes’ … jes’ happy you ain’t mad or nothin’.”

Hanzo’s heart seized in his chest. “I wouldn’t be mad at you for that,” he said quietly, wondering just what sort of hurts Jesse had received in the past to make him believe that such a thing was even possible.

The both of them fell silent after that, just listening to each other’s breaths for a few moments. Hanzo nodded numbly when Genji mouthed ‘I should go’ before slinking wordlessly out of the bedroom.

“So … that was the accident?” He asked when he couldn’t stand the silence any more. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” he added hastily. “You don’t have to tell me if you would rather not.”

“Naw, I don’t mind,” Jesse answered. “I don’t talk about it much, but I think I can with you.” 

Hanzo listened with growing horror as Jesse told his story, “Oh my God,” he breathed when Jesse had finished, feeling sick as he tried not to let his active imagination picture the scene too clearly. “That must have been -- I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah, it was rough.” Jesse exhaled as though exhausted; talking about it had to be difficult. “I was in and out of surgery the first week -- not just for my arm, I was pretty fucked up all over -- and then stayed in the hospital for a couple more ‘fore they sent me home. Didn’t wanna go back to school for a bit, but did it pretty much as soon as I was allowed anyway -- didn’t want to miss too much and have to repeat.” 

“How was it when you went back?” As hard as it must be, Jesse seemed inclined to talk, and to Hanzo, he sounded better and less anxious the more he did so.

“Tiring. The pity faces and the kids tryin’ to get a peek or always lookin’ away was the worst. An’ I didn’t write for months.”

Well, that answered that question. “Hmmm. I had wondered what that big gap between ‘Gunpowder’ and ‘Shot in the Dark’ was.” 

“Glad I got my ass back in gear and started writin’ again, though. Wouldn’t have met you, otherwise.”

“I’m glad, too,” said Hanzo, heart clenching at the thought of never having met Jesse if that hadn’t been the case. “So … are you alright?”

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m alright. Thanks for … just thanks.” Jesse’s voice wavered slightly, but not in a bad way. “No lie, I was real scared to tell ya’, but like I said, didn’ want ya’ t’find out for the first time when we saw each other.”

“So is this your roundabout way of telling me that you can come?” Hanzo teased, hoping to break the tension. Jesse laughed in response.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Guess I could have said that better. Ana was good as long as I check in with ‘er every day, and Jackson won’t give me trouble about th’time off. Just gotta figure out how I’m gettin’ there.”

“I told you I would buy your ticket.” If his laptop hadn’t been out in the living room with Genji, Hanzo would already be online looking for a flight. How long until Jesse would be here? His break was the week before Hanzo’s, so … just under a month. It felt so far away, but Hanzo was sure he was going to burst from the excitement building in his chest at the thought that it was even happening.

“Hey darlin’, I can manage that much. You’ll be hostin’, so th’least I can do is get myself there.”

“Fine,” Hanzo huffed. “Is there … anything you want me to have here? You said you have a prosthetic, but … ?” He tapered off, not sure where he was going and not wanting to be insensitive. Still, if Jesse needed any little thing to feel comfortable, he was going to have it.

“Naw, I’m good,” Jesse answered genially. “I got one of those functional prosthetics. It’s kinda’ goofy lookin’, but it lets me do most stuff that doesn’t take fine motor or need a light touch with both hands. I’m pretty shit with that stuff, nowadays. Wait- there is one thing,” he added. “But it’s kinda’ stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not actually stupid. What is it?”

“Uh … straws?” Jesse sounded a little embarrassed. “It’s not always easy to manage a glass or whatever with my left, and it’s nice t’be able to keep my right free to do whatever. I mean, I can hold stuff alright in the prosthetic, but it’s not real coordinated for drinkin’.”

“That’s fine. I actually already have some, unless there’s a specific kind you like?” That was a fib, but it seemed like the thing to say.

“Anything’s good,” Jesse answered, mollified. “Thanks Hanners.”

Hanzo smiled at the nickname, and they talked a little while longer about their plans until Jesse suddenly remembered that Genji was still visiting and shoo’ed Hanzo off the phone to spend time with his brother. They ended the call with a sort of giddy excitement, a far cry from how it began.

Genji looked up sharply from his phone when Hanzo emerged from his room. “Well, that happened,” he commented as Hanzo moved to drop onto the couch next to him. “So … ?”

“Everything’s fine,” Hanzo said mildly, his lips trying to twitch into a pleased smile. “He’s going to try to get here after school on the Friday before break, but it will depend on what kind of tickets he finds.” He heaved a sigh. “He doesn’t want me to pay for them. If he tries to buy bus tickets I might do it anyway, though, just to get him here faster.”

“Ew. Bus.” Genji wrinkled his nose in disgust. “So anyway, what happened? I kinda’ wanted to hear, but things were getting emotional and I’m not all about that.”

“He lost the arm in a car accident sophomore year,” Hanzo said simply. “He had mentioned the accident before, but not much about it other than it kept him from playing football.”

“Huh.” Genji appeared to be thinking hard, eyes narrowed. Hanzo regarded him suspiciously, until his hand darted out to snatch Hanzo’s phone.

“Hey!” Hanzo protested, trying to grab it back, but Genji dived out of the way. The little gremlin had always been fast, and Hanzo had been taken by surprise.

“Just a sec, I wanna see something.”

Hanzo grumped as Genji pulled up his saved pictures, giggling at the fact that he had a folder in his gallery where he kept Jesse’s photos specifically. 

“Thought so.” Genji finished flipping through the folder. “I was all ‘how could you not see that in the pictures?’ but then, look --” He turned the phone around to face Hanzo. “Either he’s wearing long sleeves and his left hand is hidden, or his arm is out of the picture completely in all of them.”

“I can’t blame him,” Hanzo said defensively. “Like I told him, I’m sure I would have done the same thing in his place.”

Genji squinted at Hanzo as he reclaimed his phone. “Yeah. I guess you would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The school I had Genji (and Hanzo, the previous year) attending in Seattle has a winter break in February (not to be confused with the holiday break in December) and then spring break in May. One of my client schools at work does pretty much the same thing, but they call the Feb. break “Ski Week” and only implemented it because there were so many absences that week due to families going skiing. 
> 
> *Temperatures in the San Francisco Bay area in February run 50-60F (10-15F), so swimming is not usually something you want to do at the beach. 
> 
> *I have a love/hate relationship with those beach showers.
> 
> *One of my fave Mexican idioms is “chupar faros.” Some of y’all probably have some good ones, so throw them at me!
> 
> *The research I did to see the type and extent of the injuries Jesse would have received being in the rear left seat during an accident of that type was … interesting. And occasionally kinda’ gory, when I got to the videos of on-site amputations.
> 
> *In hindsight, I should consider revisiting chapter 1 and putting some of the fic titles where they belong.
> 
> *Whenever I picture Hanzo owning straws, I imagine paper party straws with wide white and purple stripes spiralling down the length. There is no discernible reason for this.
> 
> *I agree with Genji on the “ew, bus” for long distances. I spent 3 days on a Greyhound travelling between Los Angeles and Miami some years back, and there are very few nice things I have to say about the experience.


	10. Be My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what it says on the tin, folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my holiday gift to you, as it is one of my favorites (and one y'all have been waiting for). It is a bit early 'cause I'll be leaving town at the end of the week and won't be back until New Year.

Jesse had no idea it would be this hard to give someone a plant.

Knowing how much Hanzo babied his bonsai trees and the bowl of bamboo he had sitting in his living room, Jesse had thought that bringing some of his favorites from among the succulents that he had helped grow would be a nice, personal gift. The state of California thought otherwise.

Jesse had had the succulents picked out and everything, ready to pot in the dark grey dish he had bought. There was a small bag of white stones at the ready to finish off the little succulent garden, and he was just about to get to work when Ana had come outside to do some of her own gardening, asked him what he was up to, and pointed out that she was sure that he wouldn’t be able to take that with him. 

Slightly disgruntled, Jesse pulled out his phone, still sitting on the wide path of river stones that separated the succulent beds that took up much of the back yard from the small patch of grass. He snapped his gum as he searched ‘can i take plants into california’ and opened the first page he found that ended in .gov. 

“Well that sucks.” Jesse flopped backward with his arms outstretched, his phone lying on his chest and his hair splayed out messily behind him over the stones. “Can’t take dirt, or plants from outside, and I think ya’ gotta have ‘em certified or somethin’?”

Ana hummed, and he looked at her upside-down where she was kneeling next to an old washtub of reddish sedum she was taking cuttings from.

“Is there nothing else you would like to take?”

“Nah, it’s gotta be somethin’ personal. I know what stuff he likes, but it’s all pretty much stuff he can get for himself better’n I can.” Jesse snapped his gum again. “Seemed like such a good idea, too.”

Carefully laying her cuttings on a paper towel, Ana hummed again. “You know, these travel well without soil or water.”

Jesse blinked at her, the weak March sun beginning to warm his cheeks. She was right -- whenever they took cuttings, they had to leave them be for a few days, and then there was that time that they were in the middle of re-planting some things when Fareeha had fallen off the porch swing she had been standing on and needed stitches on her eyebrow. When he and Ana had remembered the plants two days later they were fine, but in need of watering after sitting on the stones that long.

He sat up abruptly with a grin, phone sliding down his chest and off his lap to clatter on the stones. He had a plan.

\-------

Jesse had insisted he could just take the train out to Albuquerque for his flight, but Ana had insisted even harder that he let her drive him there so that she could properly see him off. Ana, being Ana, had won, the motherly desire to do things for Jesse and make sure he arrived there safely overshadowing anything else. She had even arranged for Fareeha’s father to meet them there rather than flying into Santa Fe to pick her up for the break.

Fareeha had piled into the backseat with Jesse’s backpack and hat and her own luggage, asking Ana whether they could stop at a few places in town between saying goodbye to Jesse and meeting up with her dad. She received a “We will see” in return. 

Oh, how Jesse hated car rides. 

Sitting folded in on himself to be as small and far away from the door as possible, Jesse rested his prosthetic arm on the box he had brought with him. The knuckles of his right hand were white with the grip he had on the corner of it, and his knee bounced constantly, eyes flicking rapidly from window to window to take in the traffic around them.

Ana reached over to squeeze his shoulder when they were stopped, and Jesse’s racing heart skipped a beat before taking off again. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Jesse answered breathlessly, not believing it himself. His jaw was clamped so tight that he had foregone chewing the gum that was now shoved into his cheek, and although he knew it was going to turn into a headache sometime before they reached their destination, he couldn’t help it.

It would have been worse in Ana’s old car: she had traded in her very open Jeep for a large, sturdy sport wagon while Jesse was still in the hospital, for the sake of his mental health. It was just one more thing he felt guilty about, knowing she had loved that Jeep, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Breathe, habibi. In, hold, out.” They started through the intersection. “Fareeha, why do you not tell your brother about that video game you just got? I remember you two playing a lot of the first one in the series together.”

Fareeha kept up a fairly steady stream of chatter after that, which Jesse tried very hard to focus on.

It was difficult, to say the least.

By the time they reached Albuquerque an hour and a half later, Jesse was almost too exhausted to be anxious about his first flight, nerves frayed and muscles held tense for too long ready to give out.

It was too early for a real dinner, but they grabbed a small bite together before going to the airport to get Jesse checked in anyway, and he felt a bit better for having eaten. It wasn’t until he had to go through security that they said their goodbyes, Ana hugging Jesse tightly and Fareeha latching on to make it a group hug.

“Have a safe trip, habibi,” Ana said, patting Jesse’s cheek. “Let me know when you have arrived, do not forget to check in, and call me if you need anything.”

“I will, Ana.” Jesse smiled, the nerves starting to build in his stomach. These were good nerves, though; excitement for what was to come. Even if they were tempered with an underlying fear of walking into the unknown, of being away from his family for the first time since they had folded him into it. “Thanks again for lettin’ me go.”

“I could see it was important to you.” Her voice was soft. “Have fun on your trip. I hope that you and Hanzo enjoy each other’s company.”

“Thanks, Ana.” He hugged her again. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Ana kissed him on the cheek, and he turned to Fareeha to ruffle her hair.

“Don’t miss me too much, huh, Ree?”

“Hey!” Fareeha tried to dodge his hand, playfully swatting it away with a laugh. “Dork. Bring me something from California?”

“Yeah, I will.” Jesse wrangled her into a one-armed hug, and she squealed. “Love you. Have a good visit with your pa.”

“Ugh, you’re so embarrassing! But love you, too. Now go see your boyfriend.”

Laughing, Jesse didn’t bother to correct her as he picked up the box and backpack he had set at his feet and said his final goodbyes. They stayed until he got through the security checkpoint, and he turned to wave at them through the plexiglass panelling before disappearing in the crowd on his way to his terminal.

Alone in a group of people, Jesse was suddenly terrified and elated at the same time. He wanted so badly for this trip to go well, to get to know Hanzo better. He wanted a lot of things, things that burned brightly in his chest but that he wouldn’t let himself examine too closely; it would only hurt if Hanzo didn’t want the same things. Still, a part of him hoped, even when he told himself that Hanzo’s friendship was more than enough, not to be risked for a scant chance at something else. 

The wanting still burned, the fear that things would not go well. He tried to distract himself. How would it feel to fly? Would it be as scary as driving? He hoped not. What would California be like? Hanzo had said they would go to the beach one day … he tried to imagine it, creating a mental landscape for a place he had never been. 

Jesse pondered, exchanging a few texts with Hanzo after letting him know that he was at the airport waiting to board, until his flight was announced. 

\-------

Hanzo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, straining his ears for the announcement that Jesse’s flight had landed. The rest of the airport noises were merely background: the murmur of other voices, the beeping of electronics, the low hum of the moving walkways … he searched the faces of those exiting the security gate, just in case he had somehow missed it.

Anticipation and anxiety roiled together in his stomach, one big mass of nerves that buzzed and fluttered in a way that wasn’t unpleasant in the least. 

“Southwest Flight 112 now arriving from Albuquerque…” 

The staticky, barely-understandable voice on the loudspeaker made Hanzo jump, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, actively searching faces now despite knowing perfectly well he had at least twenty minutes to wait while the plane taxied into position and the passengers disembarked.

Those twenty minutes felt like an eternity.

Finally, Hanzo spotted him, Stetson hat and red plaid flannel maneuvering through the crowd with a well-used backpack over one shoulder and a small box carefully cradled to his chest. Jesse hadn’t seen Hanzo yet, and was biting his lower lip, looking eager and more than a little lost. 

It wasn’t until he passed through the gate that Jesse’s eyes found Hanzo’s, and when they did, it was like the sun had risen in Jesse’s face. He broke into a jog, dodging around the few people who stood between them, and Hanzo met him halfway in his excitement.

They stopped just short of each other, and Hanzo suppressed the unexpected urge to throw his arms around him, lest he upset whatever it was that Jesse was carrying so carefully. They shared near-identical shy smiles, Hanzo having to look up slightly. He wondered if Jesse’s heart was racing as quickly as his own, wanted to press his trembling fingers to Jesse’s chest to find out.

Jesse found his voice first. “Hey there, darlin’. You … you’re even prettier face t’face.” His smile went crooked, and Hanzo could see his ears reddening, just as he felt his own doing.

“And you’re still a flatterer,” Hanzo replied, pleasantly embarrassed, and gave in to the desire to throw his arms around Jesse’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, darlin’.” Jesse curled his arm around Hanzo, the parcel he was carrying tucked safely against his side with his prosthetic, and it just felt right.

“Do you have any luggage?” Hanzo asked after they hadn’t moved for several moments, the sporadic crowd parting around them like a river around a stone.

“Naw, just this.” 

Letting go of Jesse slowly and with great reluctance, Hanzo stepped back. “Let’s go home, then.”

They walked together out of the airport, Hanzo asking Jesse about his flight and Jesse telling him about how it had been his first. Jesse walked purposefully on Hanzo’s left, and when their fingers brushed against each other, he didn’t seem to mind that Hanzo twined them together, squeezing a little when he had done so. 

Standing hand in hand as they waited for the valet to bring his car around, Hanzo kept stealing glances at Jesse, almost disbelieving he was really here despite the warm fingers clutched in his own. Jesse seemed to be doing the same, and Hanzo’s heart fluttered each time their eyes met.

The car was brought around, and Jesse stowed his backpack in the back seat, but kept the box with him, settling it carefully in his lap.

“What’s in there?” Hanzo asked, finally giving it enough attention to be curious as he shifted into drive and slowly began making his way out of the terminal.

“Aw, I’ll show ya’ when we get back t’your place,” Jesse answered, and something in his voice made Hanzo glance over. The knuckles of Jesse’s good hand were white on the box, his jaw tight and his shoulders hunched slightly as he seemed to struggle to control his breathing.

Hanzo did a double-take, suddenly remembering one of their first chat conversations. 

_**BlueDragonArcher:** why don’t you drive?_  
_**HighNoon:** no license. not that big on cars and i live in walking distance of almost everything anyway_

He hadn’t put two and two together before now.

_... I had my arm hangin’ out the window in the back seat when some guy in a big truck blew the stop light and rammed right into the side of us. Arm was crushed and had me pinned, so they had to cut it off right then and there jes’ to get me out o’ the car ‘fore I bled to death …_

Hanzo reached into the console for the container of gum he kept there, and gently tapped Jesse’s shoulder with it. He startled, head jerking to see what it was, before letting out a long breath, his shoulders slumping.

“Thanks Hanners,” Jesse said softly, taking the container from Hanzo and popping it open. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Hanzo let his eyes flick over to Jesse for a fraction of a second to see that he was looking at least slightly better, but mostly kept his eyes on the road, smiling in case Jesse was looking his way. “I’ll take us off the freeway as soon as I can. Is it better if we talk?”

He could hear the initial crunch of the gum’s hard shell and Jesse’s quiet sigh next to him. “Music, maybe?”

Hanzo smiled. “You pick. It’s already turned on, if you want to plug the aux cable into your phone.”

They drove with a soundtrack of classic rock in the background, taking to residential streets once they had crossed the bridge from San Francisco into Berkeley. Jesse still tensed up as they crossed intersections, but seemed far more relaxed than he had leaving the airport, occasionally singing along with a few lines at a time … but not too loudly.

Whenever they stopped, Hanzo would look in Jesse’s direction, and the way he caught Jesse gazing at him each time made his heart stutter in his chest. He hoped, maybe foolishly, that Jesse was singing some of those lines for him.

\-------

It may be that Jesse will never be able to really enjoy car rides again, but between all the drives he had had to endure in the past couple years, the trip between the San Francisco airport and Hanzo’s apartment ranked as one of the better ones. Maybe the best, if he really thought about it: being able to get lost in a daydream about the man next to him, even if only for a few moments at a time, was a blessing, and Hanzo’s easy acceptance of his stress, his gentle attempt to soothe, tugged Jesse’s heart just a little bit closer.

They finally pulled into Hanzo’s assigned parking spot beneath the building, where it was well-lit without the harsh glare of too many fluorescent lights. It smelled like a recent rain and the kind of wax their next door neighbor used on his car every Sunday, the strong rubber of new tires and a hint of perfume from the last person that had passed by. Jesse inhaled deeply as he stepped out of the car with his box, Hanzo grabbing the backpack from the back seat before he could reach for it himself. 

Hanzo’s smile was dazzling, and Jesse wanted so badly to pull him close, to press him to the car and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. His breath hitched, and he realized Hanzo had been speaking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said: the elevator’s just inside. Being on the twelfth floor, I don’t recommend the stairs.” Hanzo tilted his head, brows drawing together. “Are you alright?”

“I’m good. Sorry if I’m spacin’ out a little, it’s been a long day.” Jesse hoped that would be good enough, and smiled apologetically as he reached out to capture Hanzo’s free hand. Something flickered in Hanzo’s eyes that he just couldn’t catch when he ran his thumb over the knuckles, but then it was gone and Hanzo was walking backwards, pulling Jesse along with him.

Jesse wasn’t sure whether the elevator ride was torture or a test of his willpower, because he had to stop himself from kissing Hanzo at least five times on the way up. Hanzo himself seemed fidgety, chewing his lip as he glanced at Jesse but never pulling his hand away.

They got inside, shedding their shoes and setting aside Jesse’s single piece of luggage. Hanzo had had to let go of Jesse’s hand to unlock the door, and he was already missing it.

“You can set your box on the table,” Hanzo said, already filling the teapot with water to heat as Jesse looked around the room. This apartment had to be as big as their house. “It’ll be safe there.”

Still looking around and feeling a bit like a mutt in a kennel meant for purebreds, Jesse gingerly set his package down on the table next to an unfamiliar bonsai, opening a flap to peek inside and make sure the contents were alright.

“When’d you get this little guy?” he asked when he was satisfied of his cargo’s safety, examining the plant with its round, rubbery leaves curled in its shallow, red-glazed pot. “I haven’t seen pictures of him yet.”

“A few days ago,” Hanzo answered, his cheeks dusted pink as he stepped out of the kitchen to join Jesse next to the table. God, he was pretty like that. “It’s actually for you.” 

Jesse inhaled sharply, letting the breath out with a smile. “It’s perfect, thank you. ‘S’it a jade plant?”

Hanzo’s eyes lit up. “It is. It reminded me of you. I thought it would be nice to get a bonsai that was also a succulent.”

About to lean in, Jesse remembered his own gift and cleared his throat. “I brought you somethin’ too.” Opening the box, he drew out the dark grey pot he had gotten for the succulent garden, a dozen tiny succulents peeking out of the individual paper wrappings he had carefully tucked them into. Invisible beneath them was a layer of river stones and a packet of the white pebbles that were supposed to have covered the soil. “I wanted t’have it all done up nice when I gave it to ya, but they wouldn’t’ve let me bring it inta’ the state like that,” he added apologetically.

“They’re beautiful, what I can see of them,” Hanzo said with a smile, running a finger over the plump leaf of a bluish echeveria, then touching the tip of a small aloe. “I’m sure they’ll even be more beautiful however you arrange them. Will they be alright until tomorrow?”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I gave em a good waterin’ a couple days ago and waited until a little before I left to pull ‘em out, so they’ll be okay.”

This time it was Hanzo that leaned in slightly. “We’ll get some soil for them when we go out tomorrow. I thought it might be nice to just order in tonight, since you’ve been travelling all day and probably won’t want to be driving around anymore. And I’d hate to scare you away with my terrible cooking your first night here,” he added with a self deprecating laugh.

“Ain’t nothin’ gonna scare me away from you,” Jesse said softly, his eyes on Hanzo’s as he tilted his head down.

There was a hiss and a sizzle from the kitchen, and the both of them whipped their heads toward the sound, the moment shattered. The boiling teapot spit another fat drop of water onto the burner, hissing at them again.

Hanzo huffed and headed into the kitchen to take the water off the stove, Jesse trailing behind. Trying not to kiss Hanzo was proving to be even more difficult than he had expected, although it had seemed for a moment there that Hanzo might like it if he did. Jesse was still nervous, though: if he had read Hanzo wrong and _did_ try, it would very a very awkward rest of the week.

“Is tea alright, or would you like something else?”

“Tea’s good, darlin’. Kinda’ wanted t’try what you always drink, since y’like it so much.”

Hanzo just smiled at him, taking out a pair of cups and some other things Jesse couldn’t quite identify while Jesse watched contentedly, leaning against the counter. Hanzo’s face looked soft and serene as he performed the familiar ritual, and Jesse felt a tug in his chest. It stole his breath and made him, for just a moment, brave. 

“Hey, Han?” he asked softly.

“Hmmm?” Hanzo paused, looking up.

Jesse leaned toward him slightly. “Can … can I kiss you?”

Hanzo’s eyes widened. His breathy “ _please_ ” had hardly reached Jesse’s ears before he had closed the space between them and Jesse’s arms were full. He dipped his head down, their lips barely brushing before they both pulled back slightly, shared a breath, and then leaned in again. 

The kiss was tender and chaste as they twined their fingers into each other’s hair, heartbeats practically audible. Hanzo’s hair was even silkier than Jesse had imagined it to be, the skin at his nape softer. He smiled into the kiss, and could feel Hanzo’s answering smile against his own lips.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been wishin’ I could do that,” Jesse murmured, touching his forehead to Hanzo’s. 

“Me too.” The way Hanzo was looking up at him through his lashes made Jesse want to kiss him again, but Hanzo beat him to it, pressing against him as their mouths moved together.

It simultaneously seemed like forever and not long enough that they stood there, trading small kisses on cheeks, forehead, nose, and jaw in between longer kisses that grew deeper each time their lips met. Finally, though, Hanzo pulled away, rubbing Jesse’s back where he had been pressed against the counter. There was a look of awestruck wonder on his face, and Jesse bent to steal one more gentle kiss before Hanzo turned with a quiet laugh to pick up the two cups of tea he had abandoned in favor of better things.

“Come on,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the living room. Jesse fell into step beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders as he did so with his heart in his throat. Hanzo had barely set the cups on the coffee table before he was pulling Jesse down onto the couch with him and moving to straddle Jesse’s hips.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jesse said, his voice husky, as Hanzo took his face in his hands. “I get t’call you m’boyfriend now, or we just playin’?”

“I want to be with you,” Hanzo answered, his lips barely brushing Jesse’s own. 

“Mmmmm, good. Was really hopin’ you’d say that, ‘cause I really wanna be yours.” Wrapping his right arm around Hanzo’s waist but keeping The Claw at his side to avoid touching him with it, Jesse drew him in closer so that he was more sitting in Jesse’s lap than kneeling over him. He kissed the bit of skin left exposed by Hanzo’s v-neck tee, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from his boyfriend (his boyfriend!). “‘S gonna be rough though, bein’ so far from you after this,” he murmured against Hanzo’s collar bone.

“We’ll make it work.” Settling against Jesse like he had always belonged there, Hanzo draped his arms around Jesse’s neck, then seemed to consider for a moment. He drew back slightly, then gently caressed Jesse’s left shoulder, slowly running his hand down what remained of his arm, then the prosthetic, positioning it so that it, too, encircled his waist. His eyes, soft and warm, held Jesse’s gaze the entire time.

Jesse shivered at the touch, heart suddenly speeding up and then threatening to overflow at Hanzo’s quiet and seemingly complete acceptance of one of his least favorite parts of himself. Unable to speak, he drew Hanzo close with both arms this time to bury his face in his chest, where he could feel Hanzo’s heart beat just as rapidly as his own against his cheek.

Hanzo rested his chin on the top of Jesse’s head with a contented sigh, idly playing with his hair as the late afternoon sun streamed in through the sliding door to paint the entire scene gold.

The tea sat forgotten on the table until it was time to order dinner.

\--------

Dinner had long been finished, and Jesse and Hanzo sat talking on the couch with their legs tangled together and a television show that neither of them was watching playing in the background, the volume low.

They had both been stifling yawns for at least an hour, neither wanting to be the one to suggest they part for the night. Eventually, though, Hanzo could tell that Jesse was beginning to lose the fight to remain conscious, his head nodding even as he smiled dreamily at Hanzo.

“You seem exhausted,” he said gently, and pulled Jesse against him to lean in for a kiss, Jesse chasing his lips to steal another when he pulled away. “You should get some sleep. _We_ should get some sleep.” 

“Jes’ don’t want t’miss a single minute with ya’, since I got ya’ right here next t’me, darlin’.” Jesse toyed with the lock of Hanzo’s hair that tended to fall over his shoulder, touching their foreheads together and closing his eyes. Hanzo closed his eyes as well, sighing softly: each of Jesse’s tender touches nourished his soul, and his words echoed Hanzo’s thoughts almost exactly. 

Perhaps, just maybe … ?

“You could … sleep in my room. With me,” Hanzo ventured. Jesse’s eyes flew open. “We don’t have to do anything, just sleep,” he added quickly. “It would just be really nice to wake up with you there.”

Too fast? Hanzo’s stomach sank at the conflict in Jesse’s eyes, his brows furrowed and lips slightly parted. It dipped lower with every heartbeat of silence until he was on the verge of apologizing for being so presumptuous.

“That would be real nice. I’d … I’d like that a lot.” Jesse’s voice was hardly above a whisper, his features smoothing into a sleepy smile. “Sorry if I spooked ya there, sweetheart. ‘S just that I don’t sleep with my arm on, an’...”

Oh. _Oh_. 

“If you’d feel more comfortable in your own room…” Hanzo swallowed. How could that not have occurred to him? 

“Naw darlin’, that’s not what I said.” Jesse rubbed his cheek against Hanzo’s, and Hanzo shivered pleasantly as the warm breath of Jesse’s words ghosted over the shell of his ear. “Even if I didn’ want to now -- an’ I do -- I know I’d want to later, and I’d have t’get used t’the idea of you seein’ me without my arm.” He kissed Hanzo’s ear, eliciting another small shiver. “I’d hate t’deprive myself of fallin’ asleep and wakin’ back up again next t’the prettiest man I’ve ever seen over a li’l thing like that.”

Hanzo knew that to Jesse, it was anything but a little thing, but he let it slide for now. “Let’s go to bed, then,” he murmured, Jesse’s smile caressing his heart when he had pulled back enough to see it. 

\-------

Jesse took his time brushing his teeth, steeling himself. It was the last thing he had to do before removing his arm for the night, and the last thing delaying Hanzo seeing him look … unbalanced? Was that the right word? No, it really wasn’t. Incomplete? Look _something_ , anyway. He knew his heart shouldn’t be drumming as hard as it was, that he shouldn’t feel like his stomach was full of bees or that he had a hot cloth pressed to the back of his neck. Hanzo hadn’t recoiled from his prosthetic earlier, had been nothing but tender and accepting.

Still. Jesse couldn’t _always_ be rational. 

When his teeth had probably been perfectly clean for at least five minutes, Jesse stopped stalling and shed his tee, draping it over an out-of-the-way corner of the counter atop the flannel he had been wearing. It always took some time to get his harness unfastened, even when he wasn’t nervous, but his arm was soon sitting on top of the shirts, harness straps curled beneath it.

Heaving a sigh, Jesse regarded himself dolefully in the mirror, then lifted up the tank he wore under his harness to smell it: if he was sleeping alone, he would have declared it good enough. As it was, though, he wrinkled his nose and stripped it off in favor of donning tomorrow’s shirt ahead of time.

He could put on something with sleeves. It would be more hassle, both now and in the morning, but he wouldn’t be so … exposed.

No. May as well get it over with. 

In a tank top and pajama pants, Jesse emerged from the bathroom, nervous as all hell.

Hanzo, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed in his own pajamas, looked up from his phone and immediately set it aside. His eyes flicked to what was left of Jesse’s arm, and Jesse’s stomach threatened to plummet toward the floor. He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, face heating up, but Hanzo just smiled and opened his arms to him.

Sighing with relief as the stone in his gut dissolved into butterflies, Jesse climbed onto the bed into Hanzo’s waiting embrace. It felt good to be able to slip his arm around Hanzo’s muscular waist, lay his head on his shoulder and simply be surrounded by him. His ear rested near Hanzo’s pulse, hearing it quicken for just a moment before relaxing into a calming beat.

Hanzo’s hand hovered over Jesse’s shoulder, criss-crossed with scars from broken glass and surgeries. “May I …?”

“It’s alright.” Jesse was almost surprised with himself that yes, it was alright. He felt as though he should have been more hesitant, but it was hard to be nervous while enveloped in strong arms, the scent of citrus and sandalwood that drifted from Hanzo’s hair and bare skin in his nose.

Calloused fingers lightly trailed along the lines of the scars on Jesse’s shoulder and down his upper arm to brush along the base of the stump. Jesse shivered and closed his eyes with a sigh, feeling the hand move back up to caress his shoulder. 

“You are beautiful,” Hanzo said softly, lips brushing across Jesse’s forehead, and Jesse shivered again, burying his face in the crook of Hanzo’s neck.

Finally giving in to their mutual exhaustion, they parted just long enough to climb beneath the covers. The mattress was soft, the comforter plush, and the cool cotton sheets satiny smooth against Jesse’s skin, but the fact that he was in the most comfortable bed he had ever touched was nothing compared to the feel of Hanzo’s body next to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *It wasn’t until well after I had written the scene about them gifting each other the plants that I remembered that California wasn’t going to let him in with them potted, so I had to go back and write that extra scene and change things up. [The rules](https://www.cdfa.ca.gov/plant/factsheets/TransportingPlantsCA.pdf) range from super explicit to kinda’ fuzzy, so I figured that Jesse’s solution would pass inspection since there’s no soil. Probably. Maybe.
> 
> *[Propogating succulents](https://www.succulentsandsunshine.com/how-to-propagate-succulents-from-leaves-and-cuttings/) is actually pretty neat, ‘cause you can take a good cutting or a cleanly broken off leaf and get a new plant from it (with some patience). It’s a bit hit or miss, though; my attempts have been less than successful, and while I’ve gotten a few baby plants growing from where the leaves were broken off, they were all too lazy to grow roots and eventually died. :(
> 
> *Jesse and Hanzo’s timing going from “friends” to “we kissed so we’re dating now” is pretty close to the first time I had my internet “friend” come to see me when I was 18, only we lasted a couple more hours from plane landing to touching lips.
> 
> *Jesse totally sang the last lines of every verse of [Wild Horses by the Rolling Stones](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07CSyTmA1Ic), the first part of [Time In A Bottle by Jim Croce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LE0SUL-dfsE), a few lines from [In My Life by the Beatles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kCeOGM7M9_w), and some bits of [Let Me Be There (the Elvis cover)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jXyZBG4vUmo) for Hanzo. He mouthed most of [Nights In White Satin by The Moody Blues](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdykXAT19Go), but Hanzo didn’t see much of that.
> 
> *I had a jade plant as a kid, which my mom referred to as a rubber tree. You simply could not kill that thing.


	11. New To This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two happy boys doing happy boy things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Peepcakes! Happy New Year, and I hope you had the best holidays possible.
> 
> I want to thank everyone for all of the nice comments and other responses. I may not have the spoons to reply to them, but I love and cherish each one and they motivate me to keep going. <3

When Hanzo woke, it was to hair that was not his tickling his nose, a lean arm slung across his chest, and his sleeping boyfriend nestled against his side.

Heartbeat fluttering, he brushed the stray lock of hair from his face and let his fingers linger, gently stroking Jesse’s head. Jesse made a small sound almost like a sigh in response, his breath warm on Hanzo’s skin as he shifted slightly. Hanzo smiled: this felt so good. So right.

There was no pressing reason to get up, and so Hanzo didn’t. He had fully intended to skip his time at the range today, and even if he hadn’t, the man in his arms would have served as a welcome anchor, keeping him in bed long past the time he would normally have started his day. It wasn’t too long, though, before Jesse stirred, slowly opening his eyes. They remained unfocused for a moment, as though he was registering just where he was, before he smiled and tilted his head to look at Hanzo: it was like watching the sun rise right there in front of him.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” Jesse murmured, voice still scratchy with sleep as he pressed a small kiss to the underside of Hanzo’s jaw, the closest part of Hanzo for his lips to reach. Hanzo kissed Jesse’s forehead in turn before they both tilted their heads to press their lips together in a closed-mouth kiss, mindful of their own morning breath.

“Good morning. Did you sleep alright?”

“Mmmhmm. Real good. You?”

“Yes, very.”

They stayed cuddling a while longer before finally getting up to follow their morning routines separately, neither of them quite ready for the sort of casual intimacy that came with tooth brushing and so on in the others’ presence.

When they both emerged, washed and dressed, Jesse had a different red plaid flannel draped over his arm. How many of those did he own? 

Probably enough for every day of the week, Hanzo mused. 

Jesse also insisted on making breakfast.

“Can’t a guy make his boyfriend breakfast?” he teased when Hanzo protested that he was on vacation and shouldn’t have to cook. “‘S not that I have to, it’s that I _want_ to.”

Hanzo smiled and let Jesse have his way, leaning against the counter to watch as Jesse perused the contents of the refrigerator.

“Anything y’don’t want me t’use right now?” he asked over his shoulder, and Hanzo shook his head in response.

“No, I don’t have specific plans for anything.”

“Good.” 

Hanzo was fascinated with the expert way that Jesse put together an impressive omelette, occasionally asking what he was doing. Jesse’s responses were playful, yet highly informative: Hanzo doubted he would ever gain the confidence in the kitchen that Jesse already had, but he filed the information away just in case.

The kitchen smelled wonderful, an aromatic blend of sizzling onions, peppers, and meats. Chopped tomatoes and spring onions sat waiting at the side until the eggs were ready, and Jesse tucked them in with the hot vegetables when he put the final omelettes together.

\-------

Breakfast passed pleasantly, and the rest of the day followed. Hanzo and Jesse went out to get some soil for the succulents and ended up just walking around town chatting for awhile: Jesse stayed on Hanzo’s left so that they could hold hands, and each time they came to a stop somewhere, one or the other of them would steal a kiss. 

After walking around for some time, they stopped for lunch at Ichiban. Jesse had never eaten Japanese before, so it promised to be an experience. 

Jesse looked down dubiously at the pair of chopsticks sitting at his place at the table, fork conspicuously missing. “Fair warning, darlin’ -- you’re gonna have t’show me how t’use these, an’ I can’t promise t’be graceful with ‘em.”

Hanzo laughed. “I’ll show you. Why don’t we order first, and then we’ll have plenty of time while we’re waiting.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Jesse opened the menu, examining it just as dubiously as he had the chopsticks. There were photos, but all of the words were in Japanese. “So … what do you usually order?” he asked hesitantly.

“It depends on what I’m in the mood for.” Hanzo had his chin resting on his fist, watching Jesse. “Does something sound good? Noodles? Tempura? Sushi?”

“Uhhhhh …” Jesse must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because Hanzo laughed softly and reached across the table for his hand.

“Want me to order?”

Jesse sighed in relief. “Please. I’m real out o’ my element. We don’t eat out real often, and when we do, we’re usually not too adventurous with it.” He felt the back of his neck heating up slightly, and offered a wry smile as he turned his hand over so that he could twine his fingers into Hanzo’s.

Hanzo returned the smile mischievously. “How do you feel about raw fish?”

“I’ll try anything once? Jes’ maybe not _all_ raw fish?”

The waitress stopped by the table to set a pot of tea and two cups in front of them, asking Hanzo a question in Japanese. He said something in return, tilting his head toward Jesse and breaking into a dazzling smile partway through the sentence. The waitress tittered and made one more quip in Japanese, and Hanzo’s ears went pink.

“Have you decided what you would like?” She smiled, speaking English this time, and cast an appraising look at Jesse as she waited for an answer. Hanzo ordered for the both of them, and although he was speaking as much English as he could, Jesse was hard-pressed to understand what he was saying with all of the Japanese names of the dishes. 

“So, uh, what was all that?” Jesse asked quietly once the waitress had walked off, giving Jesse another smug smile. Hanzo squeezed his hand.

“Sorry about that,” he answered. “That’s Ms. Tanaka. She’s here every time I’m in and I’m pretty sure she’s related to the owners. We usually speak Japanese when I’m here, but I had asked her to please speak English today so that my boyfriend could understand and she wanted to tease me about it a little. Let me show you what I ordered.”

Hanzo moved to Jesse’s side of the booth to explain each of the dishes they had ordered so that Jesse would know what to expect, showing the pictures on the menu he had asked Ms. Tanaka to leave and describing the ingredients as best as possible. Jesse felt a warmth in his chest at the care and patience Hanzo took with all of his many questions, and the way he commented on why he thought Jesse would enjoy each of the dishes he had chosen. 

Then there were the chopsticks. They both ended up laughing with Jesse’s first attempts, Hanzo gently correcting his grip until he got it right and congratulating him when he managed to pluck an ice cube out of his water to drop into his too-hot tea.

Jesse missed the feeling of Hanzo’s thigh pressed against his own when the waitress arrived with soup and Hanzo returned to his own side of the table. 

\-------

The little succulents lay in neat rows atop the papers they had been wrapped in, waiting to be placed in their new home. Jesse had just finished putting a layer of the soil they had gotten in the pot, the earthy smell thick in his nostrils, as Hanzo watched from his place at the table, chin propped on his hand. 

“What are the stones at the bottom of the pot for?” he asked curiously while Jesse rooted the spiny green aloe.

“T’keep excess water away from th’roots,” Jesse answered. “They don’t like bein’ over watered, so y’gotta have somewhere for the extra t’drain to. Pretty much you only need t’water them when the soil is completely dry. If they go without for a little too long and get a bit wrinkly, they’ll be okay after a good drink, but if they get too much water for awhile and start turnin’ funny colors, they might never go back.”

Hanzo nodded. “Good to know. Is there anything else I need to do to take care of them?” He reached out to pick up the smallest of the echeverias, a little purple thing not much larger than the tip of his thumb that would be the last to be planted.

Jesse smiled at the gentle way he handled the plant, bringing it close to his face to look at the way the plump, waxy leaves radiated from the center stem in a twirling pattern. It was one of Jesse’s favorites. “Jes’ give em’ lots of sun. Somewhere over by your sliding doors there should be good.” 

Hanzo didn’t set the plant down; instead, he handed it to Jesse when it was its turn to be replanted. When he was finished, Jesse carefully spread the tiny white stones over the surface of the soil in the scant space between the plants.

“There ya’ are, sweetheart.” He brushed the soil off of his hand and draped his arm around Hanzo’s shoulder when the latter scooted his chair a little closer to lean his head against Jesse’s side.

“It’s beautiful,” Hanzo said, looking up at him and then back at the pot garden with a smile. “You brought some of all of the kinds I painted for you.”

“Heh, yeah.” Jesse bent down to kiss Hanzo’s forehead, but caught his lips instead when Hanzo suddenly tilted his head back. Laughing softly, he rubbed their noses together before moving to clean up the table. Hanzo stopped him, catching Jesse by the wrist when he withdrew his arm from around his shoulders and reeling him back.

“Aw, darlin’, can’t jes’ leave everythin’ on the table like that.” Jesse chuckled, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for the knowledge that the papers and partial bag of soil were still sitting there to drive Hanzo crazy.

Hanzo seemed intent on ignoring it for the moment, though, curling his fingers around Jesse’s prosthetic forearm and tugging with both hands to guide Jesse into his lap. “We can for a little while,” he said when he had Jesse where he wanted him, looking up with wide pupils and slightly parted lips.

“Hmm, guess you’re right.” Jesse wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s neck, smiling as he buried the fingers of his right hand in the silky hair at the nape. Hanzo gasped almost inaudibly. “Gonna’ break your chair, though.”

“It’s a very sturdy chair,” he breathed as Jesse leaned down to claim his lips, heart pounding, and Jesse chuckled into the kiss. The chuckle was cut short when Hanzo slid his hands along Jesse’s thighs.

It _was_ a very sturdy chair, and no worse for wear when the two of them leaned heavily on it half an hour later, lips swollen and necks marked with red circles that may bloom purple the next day. Questing hands and blunt nails scratching through shirts gave way to gentle touches on sides and arms and faces in a bid to calm their racing hearts lest they go somewhere neither of them was ready to explore.

“Is there anything specific you would like for dinner?” Hanzo asked, breaking the near silence of their panting breaths slowing to something more normal as though the simple domesticity of the question would help.

“Let me make ya’ somethin’,” Jesse said softly, voice still a little hoarse, as he kissed the top of Hanzo’s head. 

“Are you sure?” Hanzo had his head pressed into Jesse’s chest, listening to his heart beating. “I can order something in again so we don’t have to go out any more today.”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Wanna do somethin’ nice for you.” Jesse chuckled softly. “Gotta try an’ sweep ya off your feet with my cookin’.”

“You already swept me off my feet,” Hanzo said with a laugh of his own, but finally let Jesse go so that they could clean up and get dinner started.

\-------

When Jesse stepped out of the car on Sunday, he didn’t even manage to close the door before being struck dumb, staring over the dunes and the stretch of wet sand to the ocean. The wind, heavy with the salty tang of the sea, whipped his hair into his face and whistled in his ears, vying for his attention with the dull roar from the surf. 

Strong arms wrapped around Jesse’s waist, and he could feel Hanzo’s chest pressed against his back. “Never seen the ocean before,” he said, near breathless, as Hanzo hooked his chin over his shoulder.

“Like it?” Hanzo murmured right against Jesse’s ear, breath warm and close so that his words wouldn’t be lost in the wind.

“‘S beautiful.” Still staring out at the field of blue grey that ended in a cloud-smudged horizon, Jesse put his arms over Hanzo’s on his waist and squeezed his wrist with his one good hand.

Hanzo pressed a kiss to the side of his neck and squeezed back. “Ready to go down?”

Jesse leaned his head back onto Hanzo’s shoulder to rub their cheeks together. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Hanzo threaded his arm through the backpack strap and hefted the cooler, while Jesse grabbed their basket and blanket before eagerly following his boyfriend on the path through the soft sand of the dunes. Their sandals made slapping noises as they walked, feeling strange on Jesse’s feet: Hanzo had insisted on buying them on the way there, on the grounds that his sneakers would be full of sand otherwise.

There were a few people on the beach, some walking down by the tide or lounging on blankets, and one person taking advantage of the high wind to do kite tricks. Hanzo led Jesse to a spot a little way away from everyone else before putting down the cooler, and they spread the blanket on the sand together.

“Maybe next time you come, it will be in the summer and it will be warmer so that we can go in the water,” Hanzo said, slipping out of his sandals to sit on the blanket. “It’s still quite cold.”

Jesse followed suit, tilting his head in confusion. Hadn’t Hanzo sent him beach pictures last month when he had obviously been in the water? He must have looked as confused as he felt, because Hanzo raised a brow at him when he turned to hand Jesse his mug of tea.

“What is it?” he asked.

Jesse accepted the steaming mug, the normally lazy tendrils whipping sideways before dissipating entirely in the breeze. “I was jes’ tryin’ t’figure out what you were doin’ out in the water a whole month ago if it’s that cold now.”

“What?” Hanzo asked quizzically, tilting his own head.

“When you came with Genji. You looked like you’d been swimming in the picture you sent me.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened and he groaned, setting his tea down and leaning back on the blanket with his hands over his eyes. His skin had flushed the prettiest pink Jesse had ever seen, and he peeked out from between his fingers with a sheepish look.

“Aww, what’s got ya all shook up, sugar?” Jesse grinned and tilted on his side so that he could prop himself on his elbow next to his boyfriend.

“It’s a bit embarrassing …”

“Don’t think it could be that bad, but y’don’t have t’tell me if you don’t want.”

Hanzo sighed and dropped his hands from his face so that his arms were curled together above his head. “No, it’s not that bad. It’s just … Yeah, it was cold when we came out. Genji had wanted to go to the beach on his visit, and thought it would be a good time to take a picture to send you after you sent me all of the pictures with the baby animals.” He was turning redder now, and Jesse couldn’t help grinning: Hanzo was cute when flustered. “He … sorta’ convinced me to go dunk myself in the water just so he could get the photo he wanted. I almost froze to death.”

Hanzo bit his lip, and Jesse leaned down close.

“Well, it was a real good photo, y’looked gorgeous. ‘Nuff so that I was real glad t’have a textbook in my lap when I got it, ‘cause I woulda’ had t’leave the room otherwise.”

Snorting with laughter, Hanzo gave Jesse’s shoulder a little shove. “Flattery.”

“Would it be flattery if I said you were prettier ‘n a peach? That if I didn’t already wanna kiss ya’ before I saw what you looked like, I woulda’ wanted to as soon as I saw that first selfie ya’ sent me?” Jesse asked with a light smile and complete sincerity. “Or that I could look in your eyes or listen to your voice for just about forever?”

With something between a giggle and a gasp, Hanzo grabbed Jesse and pulled him down onto him faster than Jesse could register what was happening. When he did realize, he went all too willingly, their lips slotting together and the flush of Hanzo’s skin hot against his.

They parted with shining lips and stars in their eyes, slowly sitting up only to lean against each other. It was as if they were the only ones on the beach for a few moments.

For the rest of the afternoon, they lounged on the blanket to watch the ocean, walked slowly along the retreating tide line hand-in-hand, and chased each other, laughing, through the sand.

\-------

It was adorable how enthusiastic Jesse still was upon leaving the dojo in the early morning chill, gushing about the handful of sparring matches he had watched Hanzo take part in.

“That was amazin’, sweetheart!” he exclaimed for probably the fifteenth time, pulling Hanzo against his side and turning to kiss his temple. “I’ve been wantin’ t’see ya spar since y’first mentioned it way back when.”

“I know you did, that’s why we came today.” Hanzo laughed softly, leaning his head on Jesse’s shoulder; not only was Jesse cute in his excitement, Hanzo was enjoying the praise almost as much as he had been enjoying the constant attention he’d been receiving. “You asked quite a few questions on that thread, if I remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. An’ I figured you were good, with how much trainin’ ya’ do, but I jes’ wasn’t prepared for that. Jes’ … wow.” 

They reached the car, and Jesse reluctantly let Hanzo go so that he could toss his bag into the backseat, trying to hide the tightening of his jaw as he went to open the car door. Hanzo pretended not to notice.

“Why don’t we go out for breakfast today?” He said instead once they had both seated themselves. Hopefully, what he had in mind would be a good distraction. “There’s a waffle bar between here and the apartment.”

“A waffle bar?” Jesse’s voice had only gone a little thin, so there was hope yet.

“Yes, a waffle bar. Genji found it when he was here last month.” Hanzo started the car and they were on their way. “It’s like one of those frozen yogurt places where you pile on as many toppings as you want, except that it’s waffles. Now that I think of it, though, frozen yogurt may be one of the waffle toppings.”

Jesse actually laughed at that, so Hanzo went on. “You can either get one, two, or three waffles and pay by weight with the toppings, or go all out and do unlimited waffles. I’ll let you guess which one Genji wanted.”

“He sounds like an all-you-can-eat kinda’ guy.”

“Yes. _Every time we went_. Which was every day, once he found the place.”

That got another laugh from Jesse, and Hanzo felt a bloom of warmth in his chest. It was good to be able to glance over and see him not gripping the edge of his seat as though his life depended on it. 

“‘S’it just sweet stuff they got?”

Hanzo shook his head. “No, they have actual food toppings too. Not that he noticed them. One of the times we visited, he ended up eating this god-awful tower he’d made of waffles, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and gummy bears.”

“That’s disgustin’.” Jesse made a face. “Who’s idea even was it t’offer gummy bears for on top o’ waffles?”

“My point exactly!” Hanzo laughed, and they joked about some of the more questionable topping options until they reached their destination.

\-------

Hanzo had left for his first midterm not long ago, leaving Jesse to his own devices for a few hours out of necessity. He had been apologetic, but Jesse had kissed him goodbye and assured him that really, he didn’t mind. 

It didn’t take Jesse long to realize why Hanzo nearly always seemed a bit stir-crazy: the level of silence up here was the sort that permeated everything. Hanzo hadn’t been kidding the night he moved in when he had loaded up chat to tell Jesse that it was ‘too quiet,’ and Jesse was certain that he, too, would have been driven insane by the complete lack of noise. What kind of insulation did they _use_ in this building?

Jesse had his own project to work on, though, and no time to spend musing over things like that. Under normal circumstances, it just wasn’t right to get into a man’s laptop without asking, but he figured that just this one time, Hanzo wouldn’t mind. He had a whole outline ready in his head, so after creating a new file and hiding it in the Sample Music folder where he was pretty sure nobody ever looked for anything, he rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and got typing.

\-------

Hanzo stepped into Takara Market with Jesse in tow, hands clasped together. The smell of spices and the tea that Mrs. Iwatome always kept brewing had become a familiar comfort in the past several months, and he inhaled deeply as he picked up a basket.

“Good morning, Mrs. Iwatome.” Hanzo greeted the owner with a brief bow as they passed her counter. Jesse paused his curious looking around to follow suit a beat later, snatching his hat off of his head as he did so. His hair fell in his eyes as he bobbed forward.

Mrs. Iwatome smiled behind her hand, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I understand now why you were not interested in a date with my daughter,” she commented in Japanese. “He is very cute.”

His ears turning red, Hanzo cleared his throat with a self-deprecating laugh. Jesse glanced at him quizzically, having let his hand go for a moment to get his hat re-situated. “Yes he is, very.” Hanzo answered in English so as not to leave Jesse out of the loop, the heat from his ears beginning to creep onto his cheeks. “This is Jesse, he is visiting me this week. Jesse, this is Mrs. Iwatome.”

“Pleasure t’meet you, ma’am,” Jesse greeted her politely, and actually tipped his hat. 

Hanzo caught Jesse’s hand again, and they headed off to get their shopping done.

“Y’gonna tell me what she said t’make ya go all red when we came in?” Jesse asked, a teasing note in his voice. Hanzo snorted in response, just shy of a laugh.

“She said that now she understands why I didn’t want a date with her daughter.” Jesse laughed at that, but quickly stopped when Hanzo added “Also, she says you’re cute.”

“Aw, now I’m gonna be th’one goin’ red.” Jesse ducked his head bashfully and Hanzo squeezed his hand.

“You already are.”

They didn’t need much -- Hanzo wanted a tin of tea and was low on a few ingredients he needed to show Jesse what proper ramen was -- but ended up with a basket full of ramune and sweets because Jesse had never tried them.

\-------

“I don’ know how they manage t’pass off those noodle bricks as ramen if this’s what th’real stuff tastes like,” Jesse huffed in indignation, trying to pick up a halved egg with his chopsticks. A fork lay on the table next to his bowl, just in case. “I mean, I ‘preciate th’fact they’re, like, fifteen cents a pop, but they should call ‘em somethin’ else.”

Hanzo laughed. “I’m glad you like it. There are other kinds of ramen, but this is the one I know how to make. I wish I could have made you Mother’s tonkotsu ramen, but it’s a twelve hour process and a bit outside my ability. You have to eat it fast, though,” he added, slurping up another mouthful.

“Aw sweetheart, just your goin’ to th’trouble of cookin’ somethin’ like this for me makes it special, and this recipe is pretty darn amazin’.” Jesse returned to eating, faster this time; he was getting much better with the chopsticks. “So what kind is this?”

“It’s miso ramen.” Smiling as he neared the bottom of his bowl, Hanzo watched Jesse out of the corner of his eye. Jesse caught Hanzo’s gaze and grinned, sending a little jolt of electricity to rouse the butterflies in his chest. “There are actually a few ramen shops in the area. I don’t usually go because they’re often quite busy, but we can try to go when they’re not as crowded if you like. So you can try some other kinds.”

“That sounds good. Bet I’ll like this the best, though.”

Hanzo nearly choked on the noodles he was trying to swallow, coughing and laughing at the same time as Jesse thumped him on the back. “Oh no no, you’ll change your mind once you taste ramen made by someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Jesse just smiled as they both picked up their chopsticks to finish eating. “Nah,” he said, just before taking another mouthful. “‘Cause it won’t’ve been made by you.”

\-------

“So,” Hanzo said, pulling a portfolio out of one of his desk drawers. Jesse perked up, curious. “I don’t believe I ever did show you these.”

“Show me what, darlin’?” He made to get up from the bed, where he had been sitting checking his phone while Hanzo looked to see whether either of yesterday’s midterm grades had been posted, but Hanzo walked over to sit next to him. Hanzo had the first tint of a blush starting on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and Jesse grinned. 

Hanzo spoke more quietly than usual, the pitch of his voice rising with each word so that it sounded like a question. “The photo shoot that Satya and I got dragged into at the end of last term.” He was looking at Jesse out of the corners of his eyes.

Jesse’s mouth opened in a silent ‘oh.’ Well that was interesting. Of course, the way Hanzo was biting his lip would have had Jesse’s attention, even without sultry photos. He cleared his throat. “Can’t wait t’see ‘em, then.”

Jesse pressed his side to Hanzo’s, relishing the warmth, as Hanzo took one last look at him and slowly opened the portfolio. The first photo, taking up the entire front page, was of all three of them: Hanzo sat on a stretch of black marble flooring somewhere with his tattoo on full display, looking at the camera with disdain. One of the women, Satya by Jesse’s guess, leaned heavily on Hanzo’s right side with an expression of indifference. Her left arm, also on display, was a prosthetic far more advanced than Jesse’s, and beautifully customized, from the shoulder down. 

While the two of them, by Hanzo’s account, had been ‘scantily dressed,’ this was disguised by the roommate (Amelie?) that draped across Hanzo’s lap like a languid cat with her head tipped back against Satya’s chest, who wasn’t dressed at all.

“That’s … quite the picture, darlin,” Jesse commented after a moment, his voice husky and throat dry. “Y’look real good. If y’hadn’t told me otherwise, I’d figure he’d gotten all o’ya t’take off your clothes.”

Hanzo laughed nervously at that, but actually looked up into Jesse’s face. “He went out of his way to pose us so that it looked as though we had.”

There were a few other photos much like the first but posed slightly differently, before switching to just Hanzo and one or the other of the women in sultry poses. Under different circumstances, Jesse might have been intensely jealous. 

“It took a great deal of begging on the part of the photographer to get Satya to pose for this one and the one with only herself and Amelie.” Hanzo pointed to the single photo of Satya and himself, much milder than the three he had taken with Amelie. He seemed much more relaxed at this point. “I actually had to step in to get him to quit harrying her for more.”

“Photographer sounds like a jerk,” Jesse said, turning the page. His mind immediately went blank. This photo was of Hanzo alone, lips glossy and reddened, hair down, heavy eyeliner smudged across one cheek. To say his pose was suggestive was putting it mildly.

Swallowing heavily, Jesse slowly turned his gaze to the flesh and blood Hanzo beside him, who was blushing furiously, biting his lip again. Hanzo cleared his throat. 

“Amelie’s lip gloss,” he said, tapping his lips in the photo. “They made generous use of it for the rest of them.”

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” was all Jesse could manage to say, leaning in for a kiss before looking at the rest of them. There were nearly a dozen more, some of them with the same smudged eyeliner, others with it perfectly winged. The eyeliner was red in a few of them. Most suggested that he was either already nude or in the process of sliding down his boxer briefs, and his closed-eyed facial expression in the last one would have had Jesse going from stone-cold to hot and bothered in an instant. There was one blank page, and then another dozen much like the first, but with the addition of oiled skin and rivulets of water and smeared lipstick.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” Jesse said again, at a loss for words. Hanzo was actively hiding his face in his hands now, and Jesse gently pulled them away so that he could look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “Honey, baby, angel, _darlin’_. Don’t hide those pretty eyes like that, you got nothin’ t’be embarrassed about. You’re _gorgeous_.” He brushed his lips against Hanzo’s and felt strong arms wrap around his torso. “Just beautiful. In the pictures and every day, even when ya’ just woke up an’ your hair don’t know what it’s doin’ with itself.”

Hanzo actually laughed, and the sound was music to Jesse’s ears. He kissed him again, feeling the hot flush of his cheeks, the drumming of his pulse. 

“I’ve been too nervous to show them to you,” Hanzo said between one kiss and the next. “I didn’t even tell Genji they existed -- I can’t imagine how he would have harassed me to send you one.”

“I probably woulda’ had t’leave the room, textbook or no,” Jesse murmured, pressing his lips to Hanzo’s cheek, his jaw, his ear. “Shoulda’ heard Ree tattlin’ when she snooped at the one y’did send.” 

“What?” Hanzo laughed again in surprise. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jesse huffed a laugh of his own and felt Hanzo shiver at the hot breath against his neck, tilting his head to give Jesse better access. “Howled t’Ana that I was gettin’ shirtless pictures and was all grossed out when Ana said she jes’ didn’t want t’hear about it if we started sendin’ each other nudes.”

Collapsing in a fit of giggles, Hanzo dropped backward onto the mattress, pulling Jesse with him. One hand clawed at Jesse’s shoulder blade, while the other slid into the back pocket of his jeans. “I cannot imagine my mother ever being that casual about anything,” he said with an uncharacteristically crooked smile.

“M’just lucky, I guess.” Jesse experimentally dragged his teeth across the tendon in Hanzo’s neck, eliciting a gasp. “Anyway, ‘m surprised that guy hasn’t begged ya t’model for ‘im again,” he said against Hanzo’s skin.

There was a beat, and then a nervous laugh than ended in another gasp at Jesse’s ministrations. “The second set was on a different day. He owes me a favor.”

“Mmmm. Have fun with it then?” Jesse shivered despite the heat that threatened to burn him from the inside when the leg that wasn’t pinned between his knees was hooked over his hip, and the hand in his pocket squeezed.

“Yes,” Hanzo whispered, repeating himself when Jesse shifted his weight so that his thigh pressed into Hanzo’s groin. Jesse grinned, nipping at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and was unable to stifle a soft, shuddering moan when Hanzo bent the knee between his legs to grind against him in return.

“So what’re the chances of me gettin’ copies o’those pictures?” Jesse asked, panting next to Hanzo’s ear. He slid his hand under the hem of Hanzo’s shirt, taking it with him as his fingers quested upward, exploring soft skin over taut muscle.

“I may have already had a set made, just in case.” Hanzo gasped, taking the hand out of Jesse’s pocket to untuck his shirts. Jesse mourned the loss of contact when the hand on his back disappeared too, only to feel Hanzo’s fingers plucking at the buttons of his flannel. He straightened just enough to shed it when they had been undone, and then Hanzo was pulling him in again. “What are the chances of me being able to call in that favor to have him photograph you?” he asked playfully between kisses.

“Ask me again when ‘m not so busy.” Jesse’s answer was barely audible, muffled as it was against Hanzo’s lips, and Hanzo couldn’t help but giggle in return.

By the time Jesse had explored high enough on Hanzo’s chest for his thumb to brush against his nipple and Hanzo’s hands had wound their way under both Jesse’s tee and tank to leave thin trails across the scattered scars of his back with blunt nails, they were both trembling. 

“What’re we doin’, baby?” Jesse murmured, kissing his way across Hanzo’s cheek to the shell of his ear.

“I have no idea,” Hanzo breathed shakily, opening his eyes..

Jesse lifted his head to catch Hanzo’s gaze, touching their foreheads together. “You wanna keep goin’?”

Hanzo bit his lip and suddenly tensed, conflict in his eyes, then shook his head almost imperceptibly. Jesse brushed their lips together with a barely-there touch and a gentle smile. “I’m not ready, either.”

Immediately relaxing, Hanzo smiled back. “Thank you,” he murmured, kissing Jesse sweetly.

They traded gentle kisses and caresses as they slowly untangled themselves, coming down from the high of arousal to nestle against each other on top of the duvet. 

Hanzo had just fallen into a light doze when he heard a quiet snore against his shoulder and blearily opened his eyes. If they actually fell asleep like this, it would be alright to skip brushing their teeth for a night, but Jesse would probably be hurting tomorrow if he slept with his arm on. Hanzo shook him gently.

“Jesse? Jess?”

“Hanners …?” Jesse mumbled, not quite awake. 

“You should take your arm off.” Hanzo kissed his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, but Jesse just buried his face in Hanzo’s shoulder with an unintelligible murmur, his body a warm and solid weight against his side. “Want me to do it, then?” Another unintelligible murmur.

Hanzo smiled through a sigh and shook his head, slipping his hands between Jesse’s tee and tank to find the fastenings for his harness. While he had seen it on the counter briefly in the morning, he had never actually seen the straps while Jesse was wearing it and wasn’t sure how it worked. 

After a few minutes of fumbling, during which Jesse mumbled incoherently and shifted to help without seeming to realize he was doing it, Hanzo managed to unfasten the harness to winnow it out from under Jesse’s torso. Gingerly, he drew the arm off and threaded the straps through his shirt sleeve, sliding the sock from the stump before stretching to set everything on the nightstand. Jesse resettled himself when he had finished with a soft sigh. 

Smiling at the same face that had grabbed hold of his heart months ago, parted lips and heavy lashes resting against tanned, freckled cheeks, Hanzo pulled the corner of the duvet over the both of them. He rested his head against Jesse’s and closed his eyes, thinking to himself how lucky he was as he drifted off.

\-------

They didn’t stay long at the archery range: while Jesse had wanted to see Hanzo shoot, it wasn’t something that Hanzo expected to be very interesting once he had shown him the range and his bow and run through all of the trick shots he knew. If Jesse could have participated, it would have been different, but Jesse had insisted that while his adaptive device - he referred to it as The Claw - was specifically rated for things like archery, he wasn’t entirely sure about the rest of the arm.

Jesse was suitably impressed by the display, however, and Hanzo preened under the praise. He also couldn’t help preening a little with the looks Jesse was giving him when sweat made his shirt cling, half transparent, to his skin, and part of his hair had come loose from its tail after making a shot during a roll. The way Jesse kissed him when he stepped out from the showers, passionate and unashamed, sent a thrill down his spine.

The rest of the day until they had to return to town for Hanzo’s midterm in the late afternoon was spoken for: Hanzo hadn’t known there were so many hiking trails around Berkeley, and he wanted to take Jesse to do something he knew that he enjoyed. The way Jesse’s eyes lit up when he mentioned it had been a gift.

Hanzo also hadn’t known he would enjoy hiking so much, but perhaps part of the enjoyment was seeing Jesse happy and engaged, interested in everything he saw at the Huckleberry Botanic Preserve. Another part may have been the dappled light from above the treetops playing across Jesse’s face, highlighting his hair in copper and gold as he excitedly compared the flora and fauna to what he saw on his hikes in New Mexico.

\-------

Hanzo was loathe to answer the phone when it rang, considering the way Jesse was lavishing his neck with kisses, but he picked it up anyway.

“Hello Mother,” he said, trying to sound normal despite his pounding heart and the stuttering breaths he had been taking only a moment before. Jesse took the greeting as a signal that maybe he should stop for a moment, and after planting one last chaste kiss under Hanzo’s jaw, he settled his head against Hanzo’s shoulder to lean into the caress of insistent fingers through his hair.

“I have not heard anything about your coming home on your break,” Masako said without preamble. “I am surprised, considering it is next week.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I got distracted with a large project during midterms.” Hanzo wasn’t ready to share his change of relationship status quite yet. “I will book a flight and let you know when I am coming.”

“Never mind that, I will have your father book you a flight.”

“I can do it,” Hanzo said quickly. “I know he is busy, and I have a prior commitment on Sunday morning that I will need to schedule after.”

“Hmmmm.” There was that sound his mother always made when she wasn’t convinced of something. He was in dangerous territory. “Please let me know, then. Are midterms going well?”

“Yes, I’m confident in my performance on the ones I have taken so far,” Hanzo said, swallowing hard at the way Jesse was gazing up at him through his lashes while he waited for him to finish his conversation. The smile on his face was like a ray of sunshine on Hanzo’s heart. “My economics exam is tomorrow. I feel like I am prepared for it, but am looking over some things again today so that they are fresh in my mind.” 

“I see. I am glad to hear you are doing well. I will speak with you later, Hanzo.”

“Thank you, Mother. Goodbye.”

Jesse grinned playfully once Hanzo had set his phone down. “Not sure whether t’ask you if I’m a large project or somethin’ you’re looking over.”

“I would say you are as bad as Genji, but that would be a lie.” Hanzo laughed, but it was half-hearted as he suddenly realized how his end of the conversation must have sounded to Jesse. “You … don’t mind that I’m not telling my parents about us yet, do you?” 

“Naw, sweetheart, I don’t mind.” Jesse’s tone was light and easygoing, and Hanzo believed him. “I know you an’ your family aren’t real open ‘bout your personal life, so whenever you’re ready, sugar. Now c’mere, I wasn’t done kissin’ you.” 

Hanzo’s laugh was genuine this time as Jesse picked up where he had left off. The hand not occupied running through Jesse’s hair skimmed up and down his lean back, rucking up the edge of his shirt so that Hanzo could caress the tanned skin underneath. Jesse ran his tongue over Hanzo’s pulse, humming in a pleased sort of way at the gasp he got in response.

It was less than two minutes later that Hanzo got a text, and he groaned in frustration as he glanced at it, Jesse chuckling against his neck.

> **From Gremlin:** mom sez ur acting weird n asked me if its a boy this time
> 
> **To Gremlin:** what did you say? 
> 
> **From Gremlin:** idk duh. she hmmed
> 
> **To Gremlin:** thanks. ill talk to her later
> 
> **From Gremlin:** k

Hanzo threw the phone back down on the bed with unnecessary force, and practically growled as he flipped Jesse onto his back. The grin he got in response was the one that had been haunting him since December, and heat pooled in his core when he gazed down into his boyfriend’s eyes. Hanzo ran his fingers over Jesse’s lean stomach and sides before leaning over him to press the first of many hot kisses to the space just below his ear, relishing each fleeting expression and quiet sound more than the last. Hopefully, there would be no more interruptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Okay, so [beach kite tricks are the best](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87JvCGMC514). It’s legit one of the few things you can do year round at the beach on the Oregon coast, especially because even in summer the water never _really_ gets warm. I always used to look forward to seeing the kites as a kid, even when they weren’t doing tricks, because there were always a lot of interestingly-shaped ones. I figured a winter beach in California would have some of the same kite dudes.
> 
> *Hanzo always puts [hojicha](http://theartofjapanesegreentea.com/how-to-brew-hojicha/) in the thermos for beach trips: it’s a roasted green tea, giving it a whole different flavor profile from most Japanese teas, which are steamed.
> 
> *I made the waffle bar up, and couldn’t find a single actual waffle bar anywhere on Google. I guess that means I should open one, gummy bears and all, and make a million dollars, huh?
> 
> *Making [tonkotsu ramen](https://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2012/02/rich-and-creamy-tonkotsu-ramen-broth-from-scratch-recipe.html) is for the truly dedicated; the recipes I’ve seen have 12+ hour cook times for the broth, and as much as I shop at ethnic markets, I’m not entirely sure where to get some of the ingredients. [Miso ramen](https://www.japanesecooking101.com/miso-ramen-recipe/) is _considerably_ less time and labor intensive. A third kind of ramen, [shoyu](https://www.geniuskitchen.com/recipe/shoyu-ramen-279842), is a soy-sauce based ramen that’s also on the quick and easy side.
> 
> *I really wish I was adept enough to draw some of those sultry pictures of Hanzo and do them justice, but alas -- I got a degree in psychology that I’m not using rather than going to art school. I keep saying I’m going to buckle down and practice but I keep getting busy.
> 
> *I was looking for actual hiking trails near Berkeley, and when I saw the [Huckleberry Botanic Preserve](https://www.bahiker.com/eastbayhikes/huckleberry.htm), I knew I had found my spot.


	12. Home Again, Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even good things must come to an end.

Hanzo blew his bangs out of his eyes, scrolling through available flights between San Francisco and Seattle for Sunday afternoon. There were plenty to choose from, but not at the time of day he needed from the airline he wanted.

“What about that one two up from th’bottom?” Jesse asked from where his chin was hooked over Hanzo’s shoulder, chair scooted up next to Hanzo’s and an arm draped around his waist.

“Hmm.” At least it was the right airline.

Hanzo ended up getting the ticket, making sure he would be leaving an hour or so after Jesse from the same terminal: he was going to make sure they had as much time together as physically possible.

“Is there anything else special you would like to do while you’re here?” he asked, turning in his chair to face his boyfriend. “I know we haven’t done many of the things people usually do when they visit this area. We could go into San Francisco if you wanted?”

Jesse kissed him on the cheek with a smile. “I’m not here visitin’ this area, I’m here visitin’ you. We don’t need t’go around doin’ touristy stuff or anything, ‘cause as long as we’re together, it’ll be somethin’ special.” He sounded so earnest that it tugged at Hanzo’s heart. “If you wanna go out and do somethin’, I’d rather it be somethin’ you usually enjoy so I get t’see a little more about you. I’m just as happy stayin’ in, though.”

If Hanzo was honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he didn’t _have_ anything he usually enjoyed doing out; in the nearly seven months since he had moved to Berkeley, he hadn’t bothered to venture much of anywhere that wasn’t school, the dojo, or the range. He didn’t even tend to try new restaurants unless Genji was visiting to spur him on, perfectly content to eat at the handful of local places that he knew he liked.

Did that make him boring?

Biting his lip, Hanzo took a look at Jesse’s sweet, open smile and sighed. “I … really don’t have much else I do out. Aside from the nursery, we’ve been pretty much everywhere I go, or even that I’ve gone with Genji,” he admitted quietly.

“Aw, that’s okay, sweetheart.” Jesse’s smile didn’t waver in the slightest. “Like I said, I’m happy stayin’ in with you, or goin’ somewhere we’ve already been if y’want t’get out of the apartment, or even visitin’ somewhere you’ve wanted t’go but just been too busy if we’re feeling adventurous.”

“Honestly, I think I would rather just stay in tomorrow.” Hanzo’s chest lurched as he realized that tomorrow would be their last full day together, and he didn’t know when they would see each other again. “I’d rather not waste our time driving around to go anywhere.”

His stricken realization must have shown on his face, because Jesse’s smile fell just a little as he reached to cup Hanzo’s cheek. “Me too, when it comes down to it. Kinda’ want ya all t’myself t’morrow.” 

Neither of them wanted to say aloud just how little time together they had left.

\-------

Their bags were packed and sitting just outside the foyer, Jesse’s boots the only pair of his shoes still by the door. A sturdy shopping bag with a flat bottom had been found for the jade plant, and Hanzo had packed paper tightly around the pot to keep it from shifting on the flight so that it would make it to its new home in Santa Fe safely.

There was still nearly an hour before they had to leave for the airport, so Hanzo and Jesse had curled up on the couch with cups of tea at hand, Hanzo sitting between Jesse’s legs with his head resting against his collarbone.

“Imma miss you, sweetheart,” Jesse said softly, his voice husky as his kissed Hanzo’s hair. “Even if we’re talkin’ every day, it won’t be the same as holdin’ you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Hanzo’s fingers idly stroked along Jesse’s side, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “We can start doing video chats, though, so at least we can see each other.”

“That’ll be nice.” Jesse squeezed Hanzo’s shoulders and pulled him closer, and Hanzo got the impression there was something else he wanted to say. He was quiet, though, rhythmically rubbing Hanzo’s arm as the broad squares of light from the sliding doors crept imperceptibly across the floor.

They didn’t need words right now. There would be time for words once they had parted, over text and telephone and, hopefully, video call. All the time in the world for words over the next weeks or months until they would be able to be together again.

Now was the time for Hanzo to relish Jesse’s ever-present heat surrounding him, for Jesse to cherish the solid weight of Hanzo’s body against his own and the tickle of silky hair against his cheek. For gentle touches and light kisses and barely-there caresses. For being able to feel, in their skin and bones and very core, wanted and treasured for just a little longer.

Yet as time wound down, Hanzo couldn’t help but wonder what wasn’t being said. 

Time ran out. They double-checked that the plants had been watered, picked up their backpacks and Jesse’s bonsai and his hat, closed down and locked up. The familiar tenseness of Jesse’s jaw was grim as they started the drive, but he smiled at Hanzo anyway, wistful and adoring, and wished he had his left hand so that he could reach over and touch Hanzo with real fingers from his place in the passenger seat.

They arrived, checked in: different flights from the same terminal. At gate 34B, they leaned against each other, fingers intertwined, to wait for the boarding announcement that would part them.

“Know what you’re doin’ when y’get back to Seattle?” Jesse asked softly, and Hanzo knew that it wasn’t what he really wanted to say. 

“No.” Hanzo nuzzled his cheek and tried to put the mystery out of his mind; Jesse would say it when he was good and ready. “I have to admit I’m thankful that Mother insisted I go, though. Going straight back to my too-quiet apartment after having you there with me would have been rough.”

“Aw, sugar. I’m glad you’ll have some time with the family, then. Let Genji distract ya’ for awhile.”

Jesse brushed his lips over Hanzo’s temple, and Hanzo turned his head to collect a chaste kiss.

They waited. Jesse opened his mouth a few times as though to speak, but squeezed Hanzo’s hand as he closed it again each time.

Time ran out.

Hanzo and Jesse embraced tightly when First Class began to board, sharing a long kiss as the rest of the passengers filed onto the plane. 

“Bye sweetheart,” Jesse whispered when they parted. “Let me know when you’re home safe.”

“You too. I’ll miss you.” Hanzo reached up to tenderly brush the gathering moisture from Jesse’s eyes, his own vision beginning to blur.

A flight attendant cleared her throat loudly, staring straight at them while she announced the final boarding call, and then Jesse was leaning in for a last, brief kiss. He gathered his things, jogged the few steps to hand over his boarding pass, and turned to wave with red eyes and a sad smile before disappearing down the jetway.

Hanzo stood for a moment, biting his lip and hand still outstretched, before slumping with a sigh. He blinked a few times, then gave up and wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, turning away from the sympathetic looks he was getting from the two women who hadn’t yet left the counter. He stayed, leaning against the window, until the plane taxied off toward the runway, waving in case Jesse could see him from where he was sitting.

The terminal was empty, and Hanzo was alone. He felt cold without Jesse’s warmth beside him. His chest was heavy and he took a moment to compose himself, still wiping at his eyes, before dragging himself off to find a cup of atrocious airport tea. Terrible or not, he would need it to endure the wait for his own flight.

He realized as he paid for the tea that Jesse never had managed to say what was on his mind.

\-------

Jesse stepped off of the airplane in Albuquerque with mixed feelings. His heart ached with missing Hanzo already, but he had missed Ana and Fareeha, too, and was glad to be returning to his family.

They waited for him just outside the security gate, greeting him with smiles and hugs when he emerged.

“So, how was the trip?” Ana asked, taking his backpack from him. “Did you have fun?”

“It was _really_ good,” Jesse said emphatically. “I jes’ … thank you so much for lettin’ me go.”

Ana patted his back as they headed for the exit. “You are very welcome. I am glad it went well.”

“Is Hanzo your boyfriend for reals yet?” Fareeha inquired. 

Turning red, Jesse couldn’t help laughing at the question. “Uhhh, yeah. He is. We, uh … jes’ … yeah.”

Ana and Fareeha spoke at the same time.

“It’s about time!”

“I expected as much.”

“‘M I that easy to read?” Jesse complained.

“Easier than you would like to think, habibi.” They came to a stop near the shuttle buses, Ana looking them over before heading toward one near the end.

That was unexpected. Jesse followed along, confused. “Where we goin’?”

“Dinner, and then taking the train back to Santa Fe.” Ana smiled at him from the door of the bus. “Come now, and tell me about your trip.”

Jesse grinned as he hopped onto the shuttle behind Fareeha, relieved and grateful at being spared the long car trip, and they settled into two pairs of facing seats. The bus was only about a quarter full, so the bag containing Jesse’s bonsai got a space of its own. Once they were sitting down, Jesse noticed the way Ana’s eyes flicked to the collar of his undershirt visible above his flannel, new and high enough on his neck to cover his Adam’s apple. His ears burned red at her knowing smile.

“So, did you two do anything special?” she asked sweetly.

“Yeah, we did.” Jesse’s smile was bashful, and he ducked his head a little, hiding beneath the brim of his hat. “We went t’the beach, which was real nice, an’ he took me hikin’ one day ‘long this real pretty trail. Bunch a’ th’days we mostly stayed in ‘cause he had midterms, but that was real nice too, just bein’ with ‘im. Taught me how t’use chopsticks.”

“Did you eat sushi with them?” Fareeha wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Jesse laughed. “And a bunch of other things. He had t’order at the restaurant ‘cause the menu was in Japanese.”

“Like, _raw_ sushi? With _seaweed_?”

“Some of it.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, it was pretty good. I mean, I wouldn’t eat it every day.”

Fareeha’s face was scrunched up in an expression of absolute disgust, and Jesse stuck his tongue out at her. Ana chuckled. “How did he like his gift?”

“Aw, he really liked it,” Jesse answered, brightening. “He watched while I was puttin’ it t’gether and asked all sorts of questions about how t’take care of ‘em and said they were beautiful. An’ he’d got this one for me.” He maneuvered his bag so he could open it enough for them to see a little inside, even if the foliage and the packing paper obscured most of it. “Never had a bonsai b’fore. It’s a real pretty little jade; I’ll show ya better when we get home. Got presents for the both of ya’, too.”

Fareeha squealed, and they continued to chat, Fareeha filling him in on her vacation to British Columbia, as the bus took them to the tourist district where they were having dinner.

\-------

To Hanzo’s surprise, it was his mother alone that waited for him at the airport. She smiled at him and took his face in her hands to look him over before they made their way out to the valet, not needing to stop by baggage claim with as light as Hanzo was travelling. Conversation was limited to small talk, which often indicated that Masako had a topic she wanted to breach once they were no longer in public.

Hanzo was sure he knew what that topic was.

“So,” Masako said in Japanese once they had cleared the jungle of ramps that surrounded the airport. The A/C was turned on too high, but Hanzo didn’t dare change it. “Do you have something you wish to discuss with your mother?”

Hanzo was silent for a few moments, weighing his options. His mother essentially had him trapped: either he flat out denies that anything is going on and has to put up with her exasperated disapproval all week, talk to her and hope she’s understanding but risk her telling his father and having to deal with _that_ stress, or talk to her, ask that she not mention it to his father yet so that he could deal with that on his own time, and hope the request doesn’t upset her. His stomach churned. Why did something that made him so happy have to be so stressful?

Finally choosing, Hanzo took a deep breath. “Have you already spoken to father about there perhaps being something to discuss?” He, too, spoke in Japanese, since she had started the conversation in that way.

“Not yet.” His mother didn’t look at him, her eyes trained on the road. 

“Could you not? Tell him? Please.” Hanzo looked at his hands in his lap, his voice quiet. “He … he tried to make it seem as though things were alright, but I could tell he was disappointed I would never marry a woman. I would like to wait awhile to tell him myself when I am ready.”

“You know, you were sixteen when your father and I first spoke about that. There were … little things that I had noticed. The business trip to Taiwan was less a business trip, and more him making sure that he had come to terms with accepting you as you are before seeing you again. It took some time, and he had to change some plans -- he had been looking at an arranged marriage for you before and dropped it when he found that there was no chance of you being happy in it. But he was never angry with you.”

Hanzo sighed heavily. He wasn’t sure whether to be saddened or relieved by what his mother had said. “Thank you, Mother.”

He was allowed to stare out the window for a few minutes, wrapped in his own thoughts, before she spoke again.

“I am certain that was not all there was to discuss.”

Turning his head sharply to look at her, Hanzo exhaled through his nose. This was it. His shoulders were stiff with tension as he gazed straight ahead, not really seeing the highway. “I … had a friend visiting this past week,” he began tentatively.

“A friend?”

“Yes. Well, he was just a friend when he first arrived. When he left, we were a couple.”

“I see.” Masako’s voice was gentle, and Hanzo relaxed slightly, letting his fingers fidget rather than forcing himself to stay stone still. “Tell me about him.”

“His name is Jesse. He lives with his family in New Mexico, and will be starting university there in August. He’s … very smart, and funny, and kind. I .. I like him very much.” Hanzo couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice or off his face while talking about Jesse.

“What else?”

“He writes. That’s how we met -- I had read some of his work and we began talking last summer. But he also likes to hike, and grows succulents, and already has a job.”

Masako hummed and Hanzo looked over at her, almost expecting judgement.

“Is he in any sports?”

Hanzo took his time in answering. “He used to be. He was in an accident a few years ago and has a prosthetic arm, so he can no longer play competitively.”

His mother’s eyes flicked over at him for just an instant. “And is he good looking?” she asked, and Hanzo could swear she sounded almost like she were teasing.

“Yes, he is, very,” Hanzo answered immediately with a hint of a laugh, surprised into honesty. He relaxed completely against the seat: as usual, he had gotten himself worked up over nothing.

“Then I insist you show me what he looks like when we have stopped.” She fell quiet after that, but only for a moment. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” Hanzo sighed. “He makes me very happy.”

“Then I am happy.” 

\-------

It was late in the evening before Hanzo finally got some time alone to talk to his brother, Genji following him into his room without a word and planting himself cross-legged in the middle of Hanzo’s bed.

“So?” Genji looked fit to burst, bouncing in place as Hanzo settled down facing him with his legs tucked beneath him. “How was the visit? What happened? You haven’t talked to me for a _whole week_!”

Hanzo bit his lower lip, trying not to gush too much. “It was sooooooo good,” he said, his voice cracking as he dropped his reddening face in his hands to peer at Genji through his fingers. “He asked if he could kiss me on the first day.”

“You said yes, right? Did you kiss him?” Genji interrupted. “ _Please_ tell me you kissed him!”

“ _Yes_ I kissed him!” Hanzo bit his lip again and dropped his hands from his face, running the fingers of one of them through his hair. “I kissed him a lot, okay? It was just … so …!”

The sound Hanzo made as he flopped back on his bed, happy and flushed, was not quite a squeal -- or at least he would never admit that it was. His heart beat faster just thinking of that evening.

Genji was grinning ear to ear. “Finally!” he said, giving Hanzo a thumbs-up. “So you two good? Together and stuff?”

“Yeah …” Hanzo’s smile was soft and dreamy, eyes not really focused. He heard Genji snort.

“Heyheyhey! No daydreaming until I get details!” He snapped his fingers in front of Hanzo’s face. “Is he a good kisser? Did he cook? How did he like the tree you got him?”

Hanzo sighed, still smiling but more focused, and propped himself up on an elbow. “Yes, he is a good kisser. Why do you think I’m wearing such a high-collared shirt?” 

Genji laughed, and Hanzo ticked off the rest of his questions with a grin that was only a little smug. “He insisted on making meals several times, and it was very good. He makes the most _amazing_ omelettes. He liked the bonsai, and had brought me a succulent garden that he went a lot of effort to get across the California border.” He couldn’t contain his smiles as he thought of all the things they had done together over the last week. Genji was leaning forward, eating it up. “He’d never eaten Japanese before, so I had to teach him how to hold his chopsticks, and we went to the beach one day because he had never seen the ocean either, and _god_ was he beautiful out there with the sun on his face and the wind blowing his hair around.”

“Keep going,” Genji urged when Hanzo stopped to take a breath. “I want all the juicy details unless they get _too_ juicy, and then I don’t. And it’s not like you’re going to tell anyone else. Did he dress like a cowboy the whole time he was there?”

Laughing, Hanzo shook his head. “No, not the whole time. We went running together a few days, and to the gym, and he came with me to the dojo and the range, so he wore athletic clothes then. He didn’t dress like a cowboy at the beach, but he did bring his flannel shirt. He does have a lot of those.”

“One for every day of the week, I bet.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but continue, having wanted so badly to tell _someone_ all about Jesse. And there was only so much he could tell his mother.

“He’s just as sweet in person as online, and so thoughtful, and always wanting to hold my hand, or steal a kiss. He was nervous at first about--” Hanzo made a generalized gesture toward his left arm, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding weird.

“How was that, by the way?” Genji asked, intensely curious, and Hanzo shrugged.

“It … wasn’t that big of a deal? He just had to do some things a little differently, I guess, but it wasn’t _bad_. I think he was more concerned about it than I was.” Hanzo sighed slightly. “It makes sense. He’d be the one to get his feelings hurt if I _had_ been too concerned about it or frustrated when he couldn’t do something.”

“So did you ever see him with it off?” 

Hanzo wasn’t terribly surprised that Genji would ask, but shot him a sharp look anyway. “Just when we went to bed.”

Genji raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly as if he wanted to harass his brother but didn’t expect a very interesting answer. “And by ‘we went to bed’ you mean …?”

“Together,” Hanzo answered casually.

“Well, that escalated quickly.”

“Not like that!” Laughing and turning several shades of red, Hanzo gave Genji a shove. “We just thought it would be nice to sleep in the same bed.”

Giggling, Genji let himself be shoved, falling back on the duvet. “I guess it makes sense. You idiots have practically been dating for months but wouldn’t admit it.”

Hanzo flopped back down next to his brother with a smile and a little huff. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

\-------

It was the middle of his second day home before Hanzo noticed the file.

If he had been a less organized person, he may _never_ have noticed it. As it was, though, anything sitting in his Documents folder without having been filed into one of his many subfolders was suspect, and anything called fromjesse.docx -- most recently edited during his last midterm on Thursday -- immediately had his attention.

He opened it.

‘Ronin and Desperado, Part 3: Silver Bullets’ was shorter than the first two installments, and Hanzo read through it with a wide, eager smile, forgetting entirely what he had opened his laptop for to begin with. The mission the protagonists carried out was brief, able to be completed side-by-side, and at the end, they shared a first kiss.

Hanzo definitely did not squeal at that.

> **To Jesse ♥:** I just found the present you left me  
>  **To Jesse ♥:** Thank you so much, it was amazing

> **From Jesse ♥:** Aw sweetheart, I’m glad you liked it

> **To Jesse ♥:** Did you plan that ahead of time?

> **From Jesse ♥:** i knew there were gonna be times you had school, so figured i may as well use my time well  
>  **From Jesse ♥:** besides, I wanted to surprise you  
>  **From Jesse ♥:** and i was so happy being with you that i figured these dorks deserved to be happy too
> 
> **To Jesse ♥:** Did you write it all on Thursday? I didn’t notice it there all week

> **From Jesse ♥:** lol no, i started monday  
>  **From Jesse ♥:** but nobody ever uses sample music

  


So that’s how he had hidden it. Hanzo shook his head.  


> **To Jesse ♥:** no, except for you apparently  
>  **To Jesse ♥:** Thank you again

> **From Jesse ♥:** anything for you, sweetheart

  
\-------

Sojiro didn’t really ask about Hanzo’s personal life, preferring to keep his questions related to academics or his physical training, and Hanzo wasn’t about to volunteer any information just now. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about what his mother had told him on the way home from the airport, and felt he really needed to figure it out before he broached the topic -- or any topic like it -- with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I miss when you could wait in the airport terminal with your friends or family until their plane took off, and you didn't need a boarding pass to get in. Remembering that "standing in an empty terminal after saying goodbye to your long-distance love" feeling makes my heart heavy all over again, but I wouldn't trade it for a goodbye at the security gates for anything. I was Hanzo in this chapter many times.
> 
> *And the airport tea is ALWAYS atrocious
> 
> *Ana knows what's up
> 
> *So does Masako


	13. Prom Night Statistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Jesse nor Hanzo had bothered to go to Prom before this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much, everyone who is still reading this. I feel like this chapter could have had additional scenes in a few places, but it was already so very long and I am so very tired.
> 
> On that note, Search Results is going to have to go on a bit of a hiatus, as I ran through my finished chapters faster than I could write the unfinished ones. I'm hoping to be back up and running soon, peepcakes.

“So, Johanna’s already sayin’ she’s gonna make me go t’Prom ‘cause she doesn’t want t’cover the story, but she doesn’t want anyone else doin’ it either.”

“Why is that?”

Jesse laughed, flopping down on his bed. “I dunno, somethin’ somethin’ distracted somethin’. I think she’s already tryin’ to wheedle the student council president inta’ compin’ my ticket, since she knows I won’t show otherwise. I sure as hell didn’t last year.”

“I didn’t go to mine, either,” Hanzo commented, and Jesse sighed. 

“Aww, sugar,” he said softly. “Wish I could take ya t’this one. I’d love t’show ya off a little and get a couple slow dances in. Get t’kiss ya again.”

“When is it?”

“Second Saturday in May.”

Hanzo was silent a moment, checking his calendar. “Would you really want me to go with you?”

“Well, yeah honey. I mean, it’s a hell of a way to out myself, but if I could, I would.”

“I … I could come down for the weekend. If you wanted.” Hanzo hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“Really? I mean, it’s an awful short trip for havin’ to fly over, an’ I don’t have my own place or a car or nothin’ …” Jesse didn’t mention that while their home was perfectly comfortable, it wasn’t the kind of high class that Hanzo was used to, and he worried about what his boyfriend might think. 

“It’s okay. I can rent a car, and get a hotel if I have to. I just … I just want to see you again. So if you want me to come, I will. And if it would cause problems, I won’t, it’s okay. You’ll just have to tell me about it later and promise not to slow dance with any cute boys.” The last part was said teasingly, trying to cover how vulnerable Hanzo felt making the suggestion. He supposed he still feared rejection, at least a little.

“Baby, ain’t no one at that school can hold a candle t’you. Probably no one anywhere. And I want you here. I wanna see you again. Jes … I gotta talk to Ana first. See if I can make it work.”

There was a smile in Hanzo’s voice. “Okay. Just let me know.”

\-------

Jesse picked at what little was left on his plate, moving it around in circles until Ana cleared her throat.

“I know what you are doing, Jesse.”

He looked up from the thin swirl of potato his fork was passing through a fourth or fifth time to see Ana gazing at him with fond exasperation.

“Yeah, he’s playing with his food,” Fareeha volunteered.

Jesse shot his sister a quick glare before taking a deep breath. “Well, y’see, Johanna was tellin’ me that she was gonna make me go t’Prom so I could write about it for th’paper.”

Ana nodded. “Do you need a suit?”

“Uhhhh ....” Jesse blinked. “I … hadn’t actually thought about that part yet.” Fareeha snorted, and he scooped up a forkful of whatever was in the mess he’d made on his plate, taking a bite to give himself a moment to regain his train of thought. This was hard.

“It was more like I was talkin’ t’Hanzo about it, an’ he was sayin’ he never went t’his Prom, and I said I’d’ve loved t’take him, and he said he didn’ mind flyin’ down for a weekend, and I said I had t’talk t’you first before we tried t’plan anythin’ and … yeah.”

“I see.” Ana threaded her fingers together and rested her chin upon them. “And how much have the two of you thought this through?”

“Well, just a little, so far. Didn’t want t’get too far and disappoint ourselves if it wasn’t gonna work out. I told ‘im that it’s not like I’ve got a car or my own place like he does, so it’s not as easy as if I go there, but he said he could just rent a car if he wanted, and didn’ mind stayin’ in a hotel if it meant he got t’see me.”

“Hmm. Anything else?”

Jesse looked down at his plate. “Well, like I told him, it’s a hell of a way to out myself, but I guess by then there’d only be three more weeks of school left anyway, so it’d hardly matter. Can’t get up t’too much trouble in just a couple weeks.” That last bit probably wasn’t very accurate, but Jesse liked to think that nowadays, he was _unlikely_ , at least, to get up to too much trouble in that time.

He raised his eyes to Ana’s face without raising his head to see her gazing at him thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s okay if y’think it’s not a good idea. An’ -- an’ I’m not really askin’ for you t’have t’do anything even if it _is_ alright for him t’come. He’ll want t’pay for his own stuff since it’s easy for him, an’ I c’n figure out anythin else we’d be doin …” He trailed off, straddling the line between desperately wanting permission and not wanting to ask for anything else she might have to provide.

Ana was quiet for several moments, thinking. Jesse was well past antsy by the time she spoke, letting one side of her mouth tick up in a smile. 

“Well, we can not have guests staying in a hotel; it would be inhospitable. But you are in charge of any extra house cleaning before his visit, and if he stays with you in your room, neither Fareeha nor I want to hear any unusual sounds coming from it.”

“Hey, we’re not even doin’ anything like that yet!” Jesse exclaimed in his and Hanzo’s defense, at the same time that Fareeha groaned “Ewwwww, gross, Mom!”

“Fareeha, eat your spinach,” Ana said without missing a beat.

Jesse’s face lit up in a grin as it sank in that Ana had just given him permission to have Hanzo come visit, however briefly, and he surged out of his chair to give her a hug. “Thank you,” he said earnestly.

“I know how difficult it can be to have a long-distance relationship,” she replied softly as he let go, then stood to leave the table, taking her empty plate with her.

\-------

Hanzo could be patient. He was prepared to wait a few days, even a week or more, to hear back from Jesse regarding whether he would be able to visit.

He was not prepared for a breathless phone call after a few hours.

“Hey sweetheart!” Jesse sounded so excited that Hanzo’s own heart began to beat faster. “I talked to Ana.”

“That was fast.” Hanzo couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You sound like it’s good news.”

“Ana said I could have y’come, and that it’d be inhospitable t’have a guest stay at a hotel, so you could stay at our place. If that’s okay with you,” he added.

“That’s very kind of her.” Hugging himself in his happiness, Hanzo couldn’t help bouncing a little in his seat. Even if he was at a restaurant. “I’ll have to bring her a gift to thank her. Did she say anything else?”

“Uhh …” Jesse sounded slightly embarrassed. “Jes’ that if you stay in my room, she’d better not hear any of what she referred to as ‘unusual sounds’ comin’ from it.”

Hanzo burst out laughing, drawing the attention of a few other diners. They quickly lost interest upon seeing that he was on the phone and went back to their own conversations. “We shall have to be on our best behavior, then.”

Jesse had chuckled at Hanzo’s reaction. “She also kinda’ roundabout reminded me that I’m gonna need t’get a suit. I’m guessin’ you have one?”

“A few that still fit, I think. I would bring you one, but they’re tailored and you’re a bit taller than me.”

“And you’re broader than me, honey, it’s okay. I’ll get somethin’.”

Hanzo hummed, an idea forming in his mind. “Let me know where you’re going before you go.”

They continued to make plans, and Hanzo ended up taking his food to-go.

\-------

Jesse sat at one of the center desks in the newspaper’s computer lab, making a list of interview questions for his main story that week. Satisfied for the time being, he glanced over at Johanna, who was flipping through a stack of actual paper photos that one of the photography students had dropped off. 

“So, about Prom …” he began.

Johanna looked at him sharply and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to flake on me.”

“No, no, I’m still goin’. It’s just that …” Jesse rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a crooked smile. “Since you’re tryin’ t’get them t’comp the ticket and stuff, I wasn’t sure how that worked with my buyin’ another one for my date.”

She stared at him for a few beats, and he could feel his face heating up.

“You … have a date?”

“Well … yeah. That so hard to believe?”

“No.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t think you dated.”

“I’m jes’ datin’ someone in college right now.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Well, that was news to him. He tapped his pencil on the desk, miraculously free of tooth marks because Mr. Itkin didn’t particularly care if they chewed gum in his class or in the lab. “Y’still didn’t answer my question.”

Johanna huffed. “Yeah, well, you distracted me.” She began flipping through the stack of photos again. “I’ll see what I can do, but you better not let this date of yours distract you from actually covering the dance.”

\-------

Hanzo debated whether it was a better idea to ask Genji to send him the suit he wanted, or to ask his mother. Did he have anything in his closet that he didn’t want one or the other of them to see? He doubted it: his clothes closet was not the place he hid things on the rare occasion he felt the need to do so.

Genji would want to know all about what he was doing with the suit, which he didn’t mind sharing: his brother had been quite smug last year when he had arranged to be dating an upperclassman that spring and therefore had been able to go to Prom as a freshman, while Hanzo had chosen not to go despite being a senior. It was petty, but Hanzo wanted to rub in the fact that he was going now, too. 

Genji would be good for choosing the suit, but probably not very useful when it came to sending it.

His mother, on the other hand, would ask but be appeased in knowing he was attending a function for which the suit he had taken with him, beautifully tailored but designed for interviews and business meetings, would not be appropriate. He doubted that she would send him photos of the ones he wanted to choose from like Genji would, but she would reliably have his final decision sent via express.

It was probably best he recruit both.

> **To Gremlin:** can i ask you a favor?
> 
> **From Gremlin:** depends what it is
> 
> **To Gremlin:** i need one of my suits. could you go in my room and take pictures of a couple for me so i can have mother send the one i want?
> 
> **From Gremlin:** as long as u don’t want me 2 send it  
>  **From Gremlin:** going 2 a party?
> 
> **To Gremlin:** sort of  
>  **To Gremlin:** Jesse’s prom
> 
> **From Gremlin:** waaaaaaaaaaaaaat?  
>  **From Gremlin:** ok im going

A minute passed with no other messages, and Hanzo figured that Genji was heading to his room from wherever he had been in the house. Instead of another text, he got an invite to a video call.

“‘Sup?” asked Genji, standing in the middle of Hanzo’s walk-in closet. “You’ve got, like, eight suits in here. Which one do you want?” He panned the camera over the section where Hanzo kept his formal wear, Western-style suits hung and his traditional Japanese clothing placed in neatly-labeled boxes on the set of shelves adjacent. Hanzo chewed his lip, trying to remember what each of them looked like.

“Can you pull out the one I wore to last year’s Christmas party?”

Genji complied, and Hanzo wrinkled his nose. “No, no white vest.”

“Good call,” Genji said as he replaced it on the bar. “What about this one?”

The suit he pulled out was a dark royal, threaded through with silver and electric blue and something iridescent so that the dragon pattern showed up when the light hit it at the right angle. Genji waggled his eyebrows.

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “I only wore that because you begged me to match you. If you want it, take it. I’m sure they can take in the shoulders for you.”

Genji set the monstrosity aside with an appreciative nod. “Sweet. I grew out of my green one.”

“Is there one in there with a yukata-wrap waistcoat and a banded-collar shirt?”

“Uhh, lemme look.” Genji flipped the next two aside and pulled out the third. “This one? Since when do you wear red?”

“Since I went to that themed charity ball with Mother while Father was out of the country last spring. Can you get a good shot of it?”

Standing back so that Hanzo could get a good look, Genji snapped a picture. “So what’s Jesse wearing?”

“He still has to buy a suit. I like this one, though. Are my cufflinks there?”

“No. You should send him a pic of your suit so you can match color. It’s like, when you go with a girl, you have to let her get her dress first so you can get the same color vest or whatever.” Genji started poking through other parts of the closet. “Hey, can I borrow these shoes?” He panned over to a pair of dress shoes with high heels that Hanzo didn’t even remember buying. 

“If they fit you, you can have them. The cufflinks and things are in the drawers on the left.”

“‘Kay. You should wear eyeliner,” Genji added as he opened the first drawer. “Red eyeliner. And these are all hair ribbons.”

“Scarves. Can you pull out that gold one on top? And I’m not wearing red eyeliner.”

“At least black, then.” He pulled out the scarf in question and tried the next drawer. “Here they are. Which ones?”

“The plain gold ones. And I’ll think about it. Jesse’s essentially outing himself by bringing me, so I don’t want to be too dramatic.”

“Okay, I get it. You just want the links or the whole set with the watch and all?”

“The whole set, I guess? I don’t have to wear everything even if I have it.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. Can I borrow these gunmetal ones next time?”

“Yes, but those I want back after you’ve worn them. Help yourself to the shoes, though, except the ones to the right of the divider I’ve got the neckties hanging on.”

“Nice. I’ll look at them later.”

Genji hauled the items Hanzo had chosen and his own prizes out of the closet, leaving Hanzo’s things on the bed. “You guys gonna do flowers?”

“Are we supposed to?”

Wandering out of Hanzo’s room and down the hall to his own, Genji shrugged. “I mean, people do, but you don’t have to if you don’t want. Just boutonnieres, nothing big. You gotta get cool ones if you do, though.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes and tucked his legs under himself. “I don’t know what a ‘cool’ boutonniere looks like, and I don’t think I want to.”

\-------

The phone only rang once before a brisk female voice answered. “Sundance Formals. How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I wanted to inquire as to whether you accepted credit card payments over the phone?”

“We do accept telephone orders, sir, but strongly recommend you come in for a fitting before making your purchase.”

“The suit isn’t actually for me.” Hanzo let out a sigh of relief. While his plan may not work completely, it would have been dead right away if the shop wasn’t willing to accept his card. “I actually have a bit of an unusual request.”

“I’ll see if that’s something I can assist you with, sir. What do you need?”

His unusual request was bumped to the manager once he had explained it, and he had to explain it all over again, but she seemed amenable. By the time he had hung up the phone, Hanzo was highly pleased with himself.

\-------

“Aw man, so I told ya’ I was goin’ suit shoppin’ t’day or t’morrow, right?”

“Right.”

“Ana took me after work today and it was th’most surreal thing.” Jesse looked and sounded dazed over the video call, as though he were still trying to figure out what had happened at the shop. Hanzo already knew the gist of it, but was eager to hear it from Jesse’s side.

“Surreal how?” he asked, trying to look neutrally curious.

“Okay, so we walk in,” Jesse began, as though he were about to tell an epic tale, and Hanzo smiled into his teacup. “And there’s these two ladies up front. Now, one of ‘em is doin’ somethin’ at th’computer an’ the other’s jes’ … I don’t really know what she was doin’. But anyway, the second lady sees me, looks me over real quick, and taps the other lady on th’arm. Now, the lady at th’computer looks me over real quick too, leaves, and comes back with the manager. All before I even got to the counter.”

“That’s … weird.”

“I know, right? Anyway, the manager starts showin’ me stuff. I’d told her that I was on a bit of a budget, but she’s showin’ me all these real nice things anyway, and when I call her out on it, she’s all ‘we’re retirin’ some of these models, so they are available at clearance’ and I’m like ‘um, okay.’ It was kinda’ weird for them to be retirin’ all of ‘em.”

“Well, it’s good to have that option,” Hanzo pointed out. “And they probably have a new line coming in. Did you find something you liked?”

Jesse’s face brightened. “Yeah, I did find something real nice. Nicer than I would’ve been able to afford otherwise, and it was actually less t’buy than t’rent for some reason.”

Hanzo couldn’t help but smile at Jesse’s sudden enthusiasm. “The rental fees probably remain standard, even if they are clearing out the style. Did you take a picture?”

He hoped so. He had been trying to imagine what the suit might look like from the description on the receipt he had received for the balance, but ‘Oakwood Edition, Duster Length w/ Scarlet/Gold Cavalier Waistcoat + Alt’ was not a lot to go on.

“Heh, yeah, Ana did while I was in it. Fit’s not perfect, but they offered free alterations, so that was pretty nice of ‘em.” He sent the photo, and Hanzo sucked in a breath when he opened it.

“You’re stunning,” he said immediately, eagerly taking in the elegant fall of the jacket he had chosen and the way the double-breasted waistcoat hugged Jesse’s lean frame. “I can’t wait to see it on you in person.”

Jesse flushed, ducking his head with a little laugh of embarrassment. “Aww, honey, you don’t gotta say that.”

“But it’s true.” 

Jesse seemed even more embarrassed by Hanzo’s insistence, but his eyes were crinkled with amusement and oh, was he beautiful.

\-------

Jesse had dropped his backpack off at home, run a comb through his hair, and hopped straight onto a bus headed for the airport. He was going to be a bit early, but he didn’t want to risk traffic or delayed transfers or other passengers ringing for a stop every half block making him late. 

He had, admittedly, not been very focused at school today: his knee bounced incessantly every time he sat down, he had chewed through a whole large pack of gum, and had only managed to write an entire two paragraphs during his journalism period, skipping out as soon as the bell had rung instead of staying after like he usually did. Johanna had asked him partway through the period where his brain had gone, but had smiled while rolling her eyes when he had explained he was picking his date up from the airport after class.

Now, Jesse bounced on the balls of his feet outside the barrier of security gates, watching for his boyfriend. Hanzo’s flight had landed several minutes ago. 

There he was! Hanzo spotted Jesse at about the same time Jesse spotted Hanzo, and they waved at each other with wide smiles through the glass until Hanzo manage to get through the gate. Then they were both moving, Hanzo practically dropping his garment bag to run the last few steps, and they crashed, laughing, into each other's’ arms. 

The laughter turned into a kiss, which turned into several kisses, and the warm, just-right feeling of Hanzo pressed against him made Jesse giddy. 

The crowd parted around the two, until a couple of old ladies tutted at their display and an exasperated TSA agent came over to tell Hanzo to pick up his bag. Then they were laughing again, chatting about the flight and their plans for the weekend as they walked hand-in-hand to the car rental area.

\-------

Hanzo couldn’t help but be nervous as his GPS told him he was nearing Jesse’s home, Jesse occasionally pointing out landmarks with a tight smile. From everything he had ever heard about relationships, meeting the family was a big step, meant to indicate that things were serious. It wasn’t that he didn’t consider their relationship serious, it was just … he wasn’t sure what to expect. What he knew about Ana was so different from his own parents that he didn’t quite know how to make a good impression.

And he really very much wanted to make a good impression.

“Right here, sweetheart. Th’terra cotta one with th’blue trim.”

Jesse’s words cut through the haze of Hanzo’s anxiety, and he flashed his boyfriend a nervous smile as they drove the last half block and pulled in behind a car that looked like a cross between an SUV and a minivan.

Letting out a heavy breath, Hanzo turned off the ignition and paused with his hands still gripping the wheel to gather his courage.

Jesse turned in his seat to face him once he’d unbuckled. “Y’alright Hanners?” He reached over to cup Hanzo’s cheek, and Hanzo leaned into the touch as he returned Jesse’s steady gaze.

“What if they don’t like me?” His voice was small.

His face softening, Jesse leaned in for a brief, chaste kiss, and Hanzo forced his tense shoulders to relax. “They’ll like ya just fine, baby, don’t worry.”

“I hope so.” Hanzo bumped their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “Alright, let’s go,” he said after a moment.

Smiling at Hanzo in that way that always made him think of summer sunshine, Jesse got out of the car and took the garment bag from the backseat while Hanzo got his backpack. Hanzo followed him up the steps, lined on each side with huge pots of aloes and other succulents, terror mounting with each step despite Jesse’s hand reassuringly squeezing his own.

“Ana, we’re in!” Jesse called as entered, Hanzo pulling the door closed behind him. It was warm inside, and filled with the mingled aromas of several different things cooking. Ana emerged from an archway to the left that Hanzo assumed led into the kitchen while they were taking off their shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t the tall, athletic-looking Middle Eastern woman with a tattoo under one eye that caught Jesse up in a hug.

“Good timing, I am almost finished with dinner,” she said as she let go of her son, and Hanzo panicked a little as she turned her attention to him. “Welcome, Hanzo, it is good to meet you.”

Hanzo also wasn’t expecting the hug, and stared at Jesse with wide eyes as he awkwardly returned it, lest he offend her by not doing so.

Jesse cleared his throat. “Why don’t we get Hanzo’s things upstairs, and then we’ll be right down so I c’n help set the table.”

“Fareeha has already set it, habibi, but go and get settled in.” With a motherly smile for the both of them, Ana returned to what she had been doing in the kitchen so that they could put Hanzo’s bags in Jesse’s room. Hanzo tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, pumpkin, she’s jes’ a lot more excited than she lets on. I’ve never really even brought friends home b’fore this, ‘cept for Angie, and Ana works with her parents so it kinda’ doesn’t count.” Jesse smiled apologetically as he picked up the garment bag to lead Hanzo up the stairs.

“It’s alright.” ‘Pumpkin’ was new. He liked it. “I’m just not used to people being so … affectionate.”

“Aw, sweetheart--”

Whatever Jesse had been planning to say had been cut short by his sister rounding the corner at speed and nearly crashing into them as she tried to go down the narrow stairway the two of them were trying to go up.

“Sorry!” Fareeha paused, giving them both a wave as she shimmied past them. “Hi Jesse, hi Hanzo.” She bounded down the last few steps, a “Moooooooom” on her lips as she presumably made her way to the kitchen.

“So that was Ree,” Jesse commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head. One of the steps creaked.

They emerged on the second story, blinking at the light streaming in from the window next to the top of the stairs after the relative dimness of the stairwell itself.

“That there’s Ana’s room,” Jesse said, indicating the door on one end as they passed by. “That’s the bathroom and Ree’s room over there, and this one in the middle’s mine.” He paused then, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, it’s not very big or nothin’,” he said with a nervous laugh. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hanzo answered, quieting the laugh with a soft kiss, and with a sideways grin, Jesse opened the door.

The room _was_ small. Somewhere between his apartment bedroom and his closet in Seattle, in fact, but Hanzo would never say so. It looked distinctly Jesse, with the red comforter on the twin bed and the stack of papers next to the aged desktop computer. The blinds in the deep-set window, one slat missing, were raised halfway to give light to the pots of cacti and succulents that crowded around the jade plant Hanzo had given him on the windowsill, and the paintings Hanzo had sent at Christmas had a wall all their own above the dresser.

Hanzo set his backpack down next to the dresser and smiled at Jesse, who was chewing his lip while he gazed at Hanzo as though waiting on judgement. “It’s very ‘you,’” he said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “Warm and cozy and inviting.”

Jesse huffed a soft laugh of relief. “I jes’ know you’re used t’nice things, darlin’, and my stuff jes’ isn’t that kind o’ fancy.”

“I’m just happy to have you.” Hanzo tucked his head into the crook of Jesse’s neck, rocking slightly as his arms tightened around his shoulders.

“‘M so glad you’re here, sweetheart,” Jesse murmured into his hair. “Even if it’s only for a couple days.”

There was a staccato pounding on the door. “Dinner!” Fareeha yelled through it. “You two better not be doing anything gross in there!”

“We ain’t!” Jesse yelled back. “Guess we better go down,” he added more quietly to Hanzo, loosening his hold. 

Hanzo nodded, and they went downstairs.

\-------

The two of them lay in Jesse’s bed later that night, Jesse curled against Hanzo’s side. His warm, comforting weight felt like it belonged there, and Hanzo sighed contentedly into his hair.

“Hey, Han?” Jesse murmured, his breath ghosting across Hanzo’s pulse and fingers idly stroking his hip.

“Mmmmm?” The soft, tentative timbre of Jesse’s voice sounded just like it had two months before, when he had first asked Hanzo if he could kiss him: some part of Hanzo felt, for a fleeting instant, that this should be important.

“I love you.”

Hanzo’s breath hitched, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and his heart skipping a beat before pounding rapidly against his ribs. His family had always shown affection with things -- he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard those words directed at him, if it had ever happened at all.

“Han?”

Jesse had pushed himself up into a half-sitting position, biting his lip. The empty place where he had been nestled a moment before was a cold, gaping void. “Y’alright sweetheart? Sorry if I-”

“Tell me again,” Hanzo pleaded in a whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His heart ached in the best way possible, and he needed Jesse close. Needed to make sure he hadn’t imagined his words. Just .... needed.

“I love you,” Jesse said again, smiling as he gently broke the kiss. Their breath mingled in the scant space between them, and Hanzo sighed.

“I love you,” he said twice more, kissing the tears from the corners of Hanzo’s eyes. Hanzo’s breath quickened as salty lips brushed across his flushed cheeks.

“I love you,” he said over and over and over again as he kissed along Hanzo’s jaw and down the column of his neck. Hanzo shivered with every touch, every word, his fingers twined in Jesse’s hair and pressed into the small of his back as though he could somehow draw him closer.

“I love you,” Hanzo said in return as he tilted Jesse’s face upward to look into his eyes, finding nothing but warm adoration in them before he pressed their lips together, whispering it again into the kiss.

And it was perfect.

\-------

Jesse stood in his suit pants and undershirt, glowering at himself in the mirror. His hair, as usual, refused to be anything but a shaggy mess, no matter which direction he combed it in. He supposed he could have cut it last weekend, but … he just hadn’t wanted to. Plus, he had a sneaking suspicion that Hanzo would have balked at too much of it going missing.

“Want me to do it?” Hanzo asked from his perch on the edge of the bathtub, where he was brushing his own long hair before doing whatever he intended to do with it. If anything: Hanzo knew that Jesse loved it long and down. 

With a final sigh of defeat, Jesse turned to his boyfriend with pleading eyes. “If ya could, darlin’. I don’t think I’ve made my hair up nice a single day in my life.”

Hanzo didn’t quite laugh as he stood, setting down his brush to take Jesse’s comb from him, but Jesse could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Sit down,” he said mock-sternly. “I’m not going to style your hair on my tip-toes.”

Jesse obliged, looking on curiously as Hanzo pulled a flat tin out of his own bag. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Pomade,” he answered simply, which didn’t enlighten Jesse in the least. He supposed he would have to wait to see what Hanzo did with it, especially since he had been effectively shooed away from the mirror.

Hanzo ran his fingers through Jesse’s hair, and he closed his eyes with a soft sigh at the gentle touch. For the next several minutes, fingers and comb worked together with whatever pomade was, and Jesse could feel the wispy hairs that usually brushed his forehead and ears being pulled back and away. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out where they were going or how they were staying there. 

“Alright, you’re finished,” Hanzo announced, kissing Jesse on the forehead. 

Jesse opened his eyes to see Hanzo stepping away to replace the lid on the tin he had been using and wash the residue of it from his hands. “Thanks sugar.” 

Once Hanzo was finished at the sink, Jesse stood to look in the mirror. His usually unruly mop was slicked back and glossy, styled in a way that was reminiscent of James Dean.

“Do you like it?” Hanzo asked after a moment of silence, sounding uncertain.

Smiling brightly, Jesse turned to face him and dipped in for a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s great, honey. You polished me up real nice. What’re you doin’ with yours?” he asked, taking a silky lock in his hand and letting it run through his fingers.

“Putting up the top, but leaving most of it down.” Once Jesse withdrew his hand, Hanzo began gathering the top half of his hair in a low knot, tying it up in the gold scarf that he had left hanging on the towel rack. “Genji says I should wear eyeliner.”

“Bet you’d look real pretty in it.”

Hanzo smiled, eyes flicking over to Jesse for a moment before returning to what he was doing. “I already told him I wasn’t going to wear red eyeliner like he was suggesting. It seemed … a bit dramatic.”

Jesse laughed. “Yeah, maybe it would be. Black’d look nice on you, though.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will then.”

\-------

When Jesse and Hanzo came downstairs, fully dressed and ready, Fareeha saw them first.

“Who are you and where did you hide my brother?” she demanded, effectively summoning Ana from the kitchen.

“You two look so handsome!” She beamed at Jesse, and then Hanzo. “Here.”

Jesse looked at the boutonnieres she held out to them, yellow orchids in red ribbon, with an exasperated smile. “Aww, Ana, y’didn’t hafta’ --”

“Hush,” Ana interrupted fondly. “I want pictures of you putting them on each other.”

“I would hate to deny you your photos,” Hanzo said as he and Jesse accepted the flowers. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, thanks Ana. Really.” Despite his protest, Jesse’s grin was wide as he gave her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Ana wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted pictures, clicking away as the two of them pinned the boutonnieres to each other’s lapels. Hanzo’s first attempt was more successful than Jesse’s, having done it before, but Jesse did eventually get the pin where it needed to go amid some good-natured laughter. 

She continued taking photos of the two of them together for several minutes afterward, making sure to get every angle because “Jesse never lets me take photos of him anymore, so I am going to take this chance while I can.” Fareeha commented in the background, slipping in a “you guys do look handsome, though” just before they left for dinner, and even sneaking a photo of her own.

\-------

It wasn’t a big deal going in.

Not that there had been any reason for there to have been, but Jesse tended to assume the worst and the worst had been a lot of different things in his head.

Instead, there were several double-takes as other students recognized Jesse -- he figured it was the hair that threw them off -- and then mostly smiles and waves and quick greetings. He returned the gestures, carefully noting the different types of surprise registering on various classmate’s faces.

“You seem popular,” Hanzo said against Jesse’s ear after the fourth person in a row that Jesse had proudly introduced him to.

“Aw, it’s all fake,” Jesse answered with a humorless laugh so that only Hanzo could hear. “We all know each other but we ain’t friends.”

“Sounds familiar.” Hanzo’s wry smile said it all. 

Jesse kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s find a table.”

They managed to find an unoccupied spot that wasn’t too much in the thick of things; it was still early, and a lot of people were still filtering in. The dancing hadn’t really gotten going yet, and honestly, neither one of them were particularly interested in the faster songs anyway.

People watching for awhile, Jesse pointing out this person or that one, and was impressed with the level of snark that Hanzo was capable of when he got going: the comments being whispered in his ear as though they were precious secrets had him laughing more often than not.

\-------

Jesse perked up at the song that had just started playing and pulled Hanzo onto the dance floor: it wasn’t Elvis, but it would do. The lights had dimmed for the slow dance, and the groups of laughing singles that had been enjoying the fast-paced music of the past few songs were vacating the floor for the couples.

Barely noticing any of it, Jesse sang along softly as soon as he had Hanzo in his arms, the two of them swaying to the easy tempo.

Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you ....

Hanzo’s eyes shone, locked with Jesse’s, and added his own quiet voice a few lines later. 

As the river flows surely to the sea, darling, so it goes; some things are meant to be …

Jesse’s breath hitched, faltering for only a second before picking it up again with a smile of adoration. They sang to each other through the rest of the song, faces so close that they could each feel the others’ breaths ghosting warm across their lips, eyes never leaving each other. When the song wound its way to an end, Hanzo leaned in to catch Jesse’s lips in a tender kiss, and they both closed their eyes, shutting out the world. 

A few minutes later found them back at their table, enjoying drinks because neither one of them wanted anything to do with the mangling of Gangnam Style that was happening on the dance floor. Jesse was laughing at one of Hanzo’s snarky comments in his ear when Johanna swished up to them in her green evening gown, a tall man sporting a goatee in tow.

“So this is the mystery date,” she said by way of greeting, dropping into the empty seat next to Jesse with far less grace than one would expect from someone wearing that many petticoats. Her companion followed suit, albeit somewhat more carefully.

“Yeah, this is m’boyfriend, Hanzo.” Jesse grinned widely. “Hanzo, this is Johanna.”

“Ah, the newspaper editor.” Hanzo extended his hand across Jesse’s place to shake, looking momentarily surprised at the strength of her grip. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. This is my fiancee, Robert. Rob, this is Jesse, he’s on my staff, and Hanzo -- did I say that right? -- just got introduced, I guess.” She looked a little smug as Jesse reached to shake Robert’s hand and Hanzo nodded across the table for lack of reach. It took him a moment to figure out why.

“Hey now, fiancee? When’d this happen?”

“At dinner.” Johanna extended her left hand to display the petite diamond on her ring finger.

“Well ain’t that sweet.” Jesse made a show of examining the ring appreciatively. “So when’s the weddin’?”

“Probably not for awhile. Rob has two more years of undergrad and I haven’t even started yet.” She grinned wickedly and leaned back into Robert, who wrapped an arm around her. “When’s yours? I saw you two being all cute out there just now.”

Jesse and Hanzo both laughed, the dim, multi-colored lighting hiding their twin blushes. “We’ve only been datin’ for, like, two months.”

Johanna fixed him with a knowing look but didn’t say anything, the conversation turning to college plans and what Hanzo and Robert were doing in school for awhile before Johanna got up to wander off elsewhere.

\-------

They weren’t the first to leave, although they were by no means the last, either.

“‘M not quite ready for the night t’end,” Jesse said as they approached the car, squeezing Hanzo’s hand. Hanzo squeezed back and smiled at him.

“Me neither. Want to stop for coffee or something?”

Jesse laughed, and Hanzo couldn’t help smiling even wider. “Coffee sounds like a terrible idea this time a’night. Let’s do it.”

Hanzo’s laugh joined Jesse’s as he unlocked the car door and they slipped inside, Hanzo reaching over to soothingly caress Jesse’s cheek before starting the ignition. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a diner on Fifth and Liberty. Coffee isn’t the greatest, but the cocoa and desserts are good.”

One of the fastest ways to Hanzo’s heart was through his sweet tooth, and Jesse knew it. “You had me sold at desserts.”

Fifth and Liberty wasn’t far, and the parking lot of The Sunrise Diner was all but empty when they pulled up. Half the outdoor lights were out and the paint was peeling, but Hanzo trusted Jesse’s judgement. His trust was well founded: the inside was clean, warm, and well-lit, and the bored-looking waitress immediately perked up to smile at them and usher them to a booth as soon as they had stepped through the door. 

Hanzo and Jesse held hands across the tabletop once the waitress had headed back to the kitchen with their order for a piece of apple pie, a strawberry shortcake, and two hot chocolates with extra whipped cream.

“Do you eat here often?” Hanzo asked, curious as to how Jesse had found such a hole in the wall.

“Nah.” Jesse ran his thumb over Hanzo’s knuckles with a sideways smile, his eyes looking far away for just a moment before coming back to the present. “One of the guys on the team freshman year had a sister who worked here, so we’d come sometimes after practice to get her discount.” He laughed softly but without much humor, and Hanzo squeezed his hand; he seemed like he was trying to work through something. “We were actually on our way over here when we got all busted up -- haven’t really been back since. Their sweets’re the best though, so I thought you’d like it.”

Hanzo reached out to brush the fingers of his free hand down the side of Jesse’s face, and the smile he received was a mote of sunshine lighting up eyes that had momentarily darkened. “I’m sure I will, love.”

Jesse brightened even more at the endearment, squeezing Hanzo’s hand and leaning into the caress on his cheek.

The desserts _were_ good, and Hanzo was sure that he had never had a better cup of chocolate. Jesse texted Ana to let her know that they had made a stop so that she wouldn’t worry when they lingered over their empty plates, swapping the cocoa out for cups of coffee as the clock passed midnight. It was approaching two before they stopped chatting for long enough to pay their bill, still reluctant to let the night end. 

Although a few people had come and gone while Hanzo and Jesse were inside, the parking lot was still dark and empty when they finally made their way back to the car. Instead of letting go of Jesse’s hand next to the passenger door to walk around to his own side, Hanzo tugged his arm to accompany him, grinning at the quizzical look on his boyfriend’s face.

Once they were on the side that faced away from the diner windows, Hanzo pressed Jesse against the side of the car to cover his mouth with his own. Jesse gasped into the kiss, shivering slightly when Hanzo intertwined their fingers and used his free hand on the back of Jesse’s neck to guide his movements. The kiss was slow and deep and sensual, tongues sliding together, and Hanzo relished the small whimpers issuing from Jesse’s throat even as he twined his prosthetic arm around Hanzo’s waist to pull him closer. 

Hanzo’s lips moved from Jesse’s mouth to his jawline when they broke for breath, and Jesse tilted his head back to expose the column of his throat, panting softly. 

“You are so beautiful,” Hanzo murmured against his pulse, letting his hand slide down from the back of Jesse’s neck to knead his side. “You _sound_ so beautiful.”

Jesse gasped at that, Hanzo’s name a prayer on his lips. He reached back to claw at the handle of the rear door as Hanzo’s mouth worked its way down the length of his neck to nudge at his collar, and Hanzo shifted to open it. They tumbled into the back seat together, giggling, and had just enough presence of mind to toss their suit jackets into the front before their mouths crashed together once more.

Feeling Jesse’s fingers twine into his hair, Hanzo leaned him against the seat back and unfasted the top few buttons of his dress shirt so that he could lavish kisses down the hollow of his throat and across his collar bone. He paused before continuing, lips just barely brushing down the line of Jesse’s jaw to wait for a sign that his boyfriend was comfortable.

When Jesse wrapped his legs around Hanzo’s waist, he took it as a resounding yes and resumed his ministrations. 

The way Jesse panted Hanzo’s name as his strong runner’s thighs squeezed around him stoked the fire in his core, and he was just pulling aside Jesse’s shirt to nip at the juncture of neck and shoulder when someone knocked on the window. They both jumped, and Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure which one of them yelped as their heads whipped around toward the noise. Hanzo squinted at the flashlight beam in his eyes, and the person knocked again.

Jesse lowered his legs to the seat as Hanzo reached over to roll down the window, and the two of them peeked out at the officer sheepishly.

“Evenin’, Officer Oladele,” Jesse squeaked, and Hanzo had to fight to hold back a laugh. Of course it would be someone Jesse knew.

“It is more a ‘Good Morning,’ Mr. McCree,” Officer Oladele answered, pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her broad chest. “What are you up to, loitering in a parking lot at 2 am?”

“Uhhhh, just talkin’, ma’am.” Hanzo nodded in agreement, despite all the evidence to the contrary, and the officer sighed heavily.

“Go home, boys, it is late.” She switched off her flashlight with a shake of her head, gave the two of them a pointed look, and walked off in the direction of the diner. 

As soon as she had gone and Hanzo had rolled up the window, he and Jesse both burst out laughing. Hanzo couldn’t even find it in himself to be too embarrassed as he laughed until his sides hurt, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Jesse’s shoulder as their laughter died down to the occasional stray giggle.

“Y’know, it’s not like we ain’t headin’ back t’the same house an’ the same bed,” Jesse finally commented, running the nails of his right hand up and down Hanzo’s back.

“This is true,” Hanzo answered, pressing a mostly-chaste kiss to Jesse’s collar bone. “But by the time we get home, we’ll be exhausted and end up going to sleep.”

“You’re prolly right. Nobody I’d rather go t’sleep next to, though.” 

Hanzo smiled and nuzzled Jesse’s neck. “Me neither,” he said softly. “I love you.” The words still felt foreign in his mouth, but saying them gave him a thrill.

“Love you too, sweetpea.” Jesse kissed Hanzo’s hair, and they sat there for a few minutes, letting themselves calm down from the mix of arousal, adrenaline, and laughter before sitting up to put themselves to rights. Hanzo was re-buttoning Jesse’s shirt when there was another knock at the window. 

Officer Oladele cleared her throat when they rolled it down again, one hand on her hip and the other holding a to-go cup of coffee. “I have told you to go home, boys,” she said in her usual no-nonsense manner.

“Sorry ma’am, just gettin’ ourselves put back t’gether before headin’ out.”

“See that you do,” she chided, giving them another sharp eye before turning away. “If I see you again tonight, I will have to mention it to your mother.”

Hanzo finished buttoning Jesse’s shirt. “Should I ask?”

Jesse shrugged as they untangled themselves and climbed out of the back seat. Hanzo glanced toward the squad car that must have shown up while they were occupied, Officer Oladele eyeing them from the drivers’ seat. Another officer was just coming out of the diner with a paper bag.

“She brings her li’l sister t’Ana’s clinic. An’ she may have been there a couple times when I’ve had t’talk t’officers for one reason or ‘nother.” His tone suggested that those reasons were not open topics for discussion. Hanzo smiled gently and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Well, let’s get home. I’d hate for her to have to pay Ana a visit.”

Jesse snorted a laugh in response, and stole a last quick kiss before getting into the front seat.

\-------

Hanzo had been right; once he and Jesse crept into the house at nearly three in the morning, they undressed, fell into bed in a tangle of limbs, and were practically asleep before their heads hit the pillow. 

\-------

In some ways, saying goodbye on Sunday afternoon was worse than their having to part back in March.

Jesse and Hanzo loitered outside the security gate that led into the terminal, Jesse unable to follow Hanzo inside. They clutched each other’s hands, foreheads pressed together between kisses, waiting for the last possible moment to let go without risking Hanzo missing his flight.

“I’mma miss you baby,” Jesse said softly just before Hanzo turned to go, moving so that his lips rested next to Hanzo’s ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hanzo answered, finally having to break away.

“Let me know when y’land!” Jesse couldn’t help fretting as Hanzo set his things on the belt to be scanned.

“I will!” Hanzo called back, sidestepping from the line once he was through to blow a kiss through the plexi panel between them. “I love you!”

“Love you too!” Jesse blew a kiss back, and waved as Hanzo took off toward his gate, turning to wave back.

In other ways, it was a little easier. This time, Jesse had gotten a chance to say what was on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Note to people from places who do not have Prom: this is pretty much the social event of the year for high school students in the US, open to 11th and 12th grade students (and their dates). It's a fairly formal (I say 'formal' in the 'tuxes and floor-length gowns' sort of way rather than the 'etiquette and stuff' sort of way) dance that happens in spring and is often hosted at some venue off campus. Many students go all out with expensive dinners beforehand, limousines, after-parties, etc, so it can be quite expensive.
> 
> *Ana's long-distance relationship line has made me think off and on about her current relationship with Sam, as Fareeha still visits and speaks to him regularly and they seem to be on good terms. I never really decided what their actual status was, and figure Jesse isn't quite sure either: he's pretty sure it would be awful rude to ask.
> 
> *I imagine Jesse would be rather incensed if he knew about Hanzo's sneaky dealings with the tux shop
> 
> *The tuxedo Hanzo has sent to him is partially a copy of my husband's tuxedo, but with a different color vest. I haven't been able to find a proper picture of a similar one. The dragon-print suit looks something [this](https://www.amazon.com/Coofandy-Stylish-Fashion-One-Button-X-Large/dp/B076H438C1/), but more iridescent and colored a bit differently. I couldn't find something I really liked for Jesse's, either, but the vest is definitely double-breasted.
> 
> *Canon-schmanon. Ana obviously has some cooking skills in this AU
> 
> *[This is the version of "Can't Help Falling In Love" that Jesse and Hanzo danced to](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Svfz64ItKhY). I listened to a lot of other really great covers while looking for this one.
> 
> *Johanna's prom proposal actually happened IRL, only it was at the dance itself
> 
> *This chapter was originally written as some self-indulgent silliness during NaNoWriMo 2017, and wasn't intended to be included. Things got out of hand.


End file.
